


Courage and Pride

by MissRomanceJunkie



Series: Any Given Moment [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Bucky Barnes Feels, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective Tony Stark, Smut, Steve Rogers Feels, Stubborn Steve Rogers, Symptoms of Depression, Tony Stark Feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-07-16 15:05:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7272937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissRomanceJunkie/pseuds/MissRomanceJunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“It’s not just about me forgiving them, because there was wrongdoing on all parts, it’s about fixing something that’s been broken for a while. And to do <b>that</b>, the Avengers have to be in the same place at the same damn time without ripping into each other, and by that I mean neither physically nor verbally, and with the willingness to have an actual grown up discussion instead of an argument.”</i>
</p>
<p>Tony did exactly what he’d set out to do, what he’d told Steve he’d do right back at the beginning. He fixed the accords.<br/>Then, slowly, painfully, one by one they all returned.<br/>Old and new, stubborn and broken, the Avengers came back together.<br/>All of them but one.</p>
<p>Or, the one where Tony has the patience of a saint until he doesn’t, the Avengers live together but aren’t together, Bucky holds everything back until he can’t, and Steve is a stubborn jackass until… Nope, he remains as stubborn as a... Well, at least he stops being a mule. It’s a good job he’s not the only stubborn one around.</p>
<p>(It’s not necessary to read the short prequel to enjoy this fic but it does provide extra insight.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finally ready to start posting the main fic in this series! Yay! Okay, so if it wasn’t obvious already, I’m super excited to be sharing this with you. :D
> 
> The expanded title is “Courage Pushes Us Forward, Pride Holds Us Back” which is inspired by the quote:  
>  _In any given moment we have two options:_  
>  _To step forward into growth or to step back into safety._  
>  _~ Abraham Maslow_
> 
> Enjoy! :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vision leads the first one back and Tony reverts to old habits quicker than you can say Sokovia.

It had taken Tony just over five months to tear down the Accords from the inside, bending and twisting, pushing and manipulating, and then finally intimidating and forcing the changes he knew were necessary for the Avengers to reform.

Whatever the fuck that meant anyway.

Every day Tony wondered if it was even worth it, if it would make any difference at all to the faces that were so obviously absent from the compound, absent from the tower after the few of them left had moved back here to lick their wounds in more familiar surroundings. Of course the memories of them all together weighed heavier here, but it was worth the trade for the safety the tower provided. Tony may have designed the compound himself but it would be more effort than it was worth to debug the place after Fury’s lot had left. It wasn’t like Tony had ever belonged there anyway and both Rhodey and Vision had made it clear they were more than happy to get out of there too.

There was a month though, before those five exhausting ones, when the only reason he left the workshop was to help with Rhodey’s recovery and keep up appearances. It was only for a month though and then he was in the face of every politician and government agency that got in his way.

Tony figured one month wasn’t too bad after the clusterfuck of the last few years.

Afterwards though, that first time he’d ventured out of the workshop, it had been a bit like coming back from Afghanistan. His views on everything had changed at such a fundamental level that it had knocked him flat on his ass, forced him to re-evaluate his own past actions and think about what he wanted to do now. In Afghanistan, it had been about his own naivety and party animal behaviour making him blind to how his weapons were being used, the destruction they caused, regardless of the fact they were being sold to both sides. Five months ago, it had been about who was really to blame for his parents’ deaths and he came to the conclusion that it certainly wasn’t the tortured and brainwashed war hero he had attacked out of shock and fury. After Afghanistan, he decided to stop weapon production and after Siberia, he decided to help Bucky Barnes.

Tony had also decided to follow through on his original plans for the Accords. Nothing was more important than keeping people safe, which was why he couldn’t let his fight with Captain America and the rest of them ruin the Avengers, no matter how much pain and betrayal he was still feeling. So he started off by having them all exonerated, Bucky included, a feat that took a few months in itself but at the same time he worked on adjusting the Accords to allow for a more favourable, self-governing system with regard to superheroes and those with abilities and powers, or fantastic tech for that matter.

He’d hoped that his chosen course of action would be for the better this time too and standing at his penthouse windows now, looking out over a city that he could once again feel confident in protecting, he knew he was right.

“ _Boss?_ ” FRIDAY called for his attention, her voice so different from JARVIS’ comforting crisp tones, “ _Vision is requesting entry._ ”

Vision had proven himself to be a solid ally over the past months, though he had his own reasons to amend the Accords.

Dressed in worn black jeans and a faded band shirt, Tony wandered to the door. If Vision could make the effort to knock then Tony could at least go open the door for him. The wood swung as wide as Tony’s welcoming grin.

“Vision!” Tony exclaimed, arms spread to encompass the android, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Vision was also dressed casually and it made Tony happy to see his friend settled firmly into normal life. There hadn’t been much need for superheroes in recent months, the world of crime and villainy remaining quiet in an effort to avoid General Thaddeus Ross’ merciless search for any entity with more-than-human abilities, and those with the ability to create weapons or entities with such abilities. It had given Tony the chance to share parts of humanity with Vision that the android hadn’t experienced before and although that encompassed more than just clothes, Tony had thoroughly enjoyed taking Vision to meet his personal tailor. The day had in fact been a happy distraction from Ross’ weekly press conference where he had once again referred to Captain America and company as enemies of the world, the gang being at the very top of the General’s Christmas list, one that was no doubt handed out to every single agent he sent out on his lethal hunting parties.

The thought chilled Tony like it always did but there would be no more raids now, Tony had seen to that with the help of the man in front of him.

“Good morning Tony, I trust you slept well?” Vision had a knowing smile and for once Tony’s affection wasn’t tinted with pain.

“Best night in a while thanks Viz.”

The two made their way toward the large sofas and settled down adjacent from one another, a position they had taken many times in recent months during late night strategy meetings. The early morning light shined through the windows, making Vision look even more otherworldly but the warmth Tony saw in his eyes was purely human.

“I am also enjoying our hard earned peace. Today is the first day of a new world that you alone have created.” The thought unsettled Tony but before the memories of past sins could take hold, Vision continued, likely knowing Tony’s thoughts as well as he knew Tony himself. He suspected there was more JARVIS in Vision than the android really wanted to admit. “This is a good thing Tony, done the right way.”

“Not everyone would agree with you there, most wouldn’t actually,” and didn’t Tony just know it, he would be paying politically for the rest of his life for some of his recent moves. It was a good thing he never wanted to be a politician.

“Perhaps, or perhaps it has gained you new and old friends alike.”

Tony’s head snapped to stare at Vision, the implications indisputable. “You’ve heard something?” Tony breathed out.

“They know they're free, that all charges have been cleared under the new Heroic Acts bylaws. Since going into hiding though, they have neither pursued nor reacted to any current threats, although they have been monitoring our progress with such threats along with your progress with the Accords.”

“We’ve been lucky is all. Earth’s been quiet, Cap’s had no reason to venture from his nest.”

“Perhaps,” Vision repeated in that ominous, all knowing way of his. Tony was convinced he put it on at least half the time he used that tone with him. Tony certainly wouldn’t put it past him after getting to know the synthetic being. “I have a favour to ask of you,” Vision went on, voice returning to neutral at the shift in topic.

Tony frowned, he couldn’t remember Vision ever asking him for something before, let alone asking for a favour so formally. “You know you’re my favourite Viz, of course I’ll try to be as accommodating as possible.”

“My… contact, with our missing comrades. Wanda. I imagine you had guessed that already though?” Tony nodded, it hadn’t been a difficult leap to make. “Yes, well. It was… tenuous, at first.”

Tony managed to stop himself from snorting but only just. The two friends had been one of the biggest casualties of the war, forced against each other in the most brutal of ways. However, he also knew that Vision didn’t hold any of it against the young witch. Whether that was due to his peaceful nature or his obvious crush on the volatile magic user though, Tony wasn’t sure.

“She wishes to come home, Tony.”

“Oh.” Tony had nothing. Home? He wasn’t even sure the tower was home for _him_ anymore and now Wanda, of all people, when given her freedom back was asking to come back here? To Tony’s tower? “Why?” He asked, the question leaving him before he could worry about what it gave away.

Vision just smiled kindly. “The others did not stay together. They kept in touch, which is how Wanda kept me apprised, but most of them went their separate ways shortly after Captain Rogers broke the rest of the Avengers out of containment. She kept it from me, did not want me to… worry, I think. To take actions to fix something that she had to work through herself.”

“But… She knows I’m here too right? That it’s not just you tucked away in this tower?”

“Of course Tony, I believe she wishes to express her regret and gratitude to you.”

“Oh,” Tony said, his vocabulary escaping him. He was definitely going to be avoiding that conversation for as long as possible. Preferably forever. “Okay. I mean yeah, sure. Of course Wanda is welcome to return, as long as it’s good with you Viz,” he left the reasons for that unsaid but Vision merely nodded his assent with a small smile. Tony suspected this, at least, was one relationship that would come out stronger for the obstacles behind them.

Pity Tony’s own relationships had been smashed to smithereens alongside his suit’s arc reactor.

Tony didn’t realise Vision had moved until he felt a hand squeezing his shoulder, the body it was attached to poised to leave. Clearly Vision felt that the conversation was over.

“Don’t be surprised if the others feel the same way, I have a feeling the tower will soon be brimming with life again.”

“Don’t get your hopes up too high Viz,” Tony huffed. “Wanda’s regard for you is obviously higher than her hatred of me, that’s all. Don’t read more into her request than there is.”

Vision seemed to contemplate that for a moment but decided not to share his thoughts on the matter. “Whatever you say, Mr Stark,” he said with another squeeze, the affectionate parody of JARVIS’ snark was a silk wrapped blow.

It was a while after the door closed with a soft thud that Tony thought to move.

 

* * *

 

It was Monday night and Tony was laid under his favourite red and gold Egyptian cotton sheets and on top of, arguably, the comfiest bed money could buy, attempting to sleep for once.

And failing. Miserably.

Wanda Maximoff, aka the Scarlet Witch, was moving into Avengers tower tomorrow.

Fucking. Hell.

“Time FRIDAY,” Tony muttered as he turned over, wishing for a second that he still had a proper clock in his bedroom like the one he’d bought for Steve back when he’d still had trouble adjusting to all the tech in the tower.

“ _It’s four thirty-three am Boss_ ,” FRIDAY said softly.

Okay, so it was actually early Tuesday morning and Maximoff would be arriving at the tower in approximately four hours.

Great, just great. He was going to have to greet Wanda on no sleep, which normally wouldn’t bother him at all but after a night of nothing to do but _think_ as sleep eluded him, he still had no idea what to say to the young witch. He wasn’t sure how he felt about her return at all. He may have done all this for the Avengers but seeing them, forgiving them, even just one of them was going to be more difficult than he’d thought and Wanda wasn’t even here yet.

He refused to revoke his permission for her to live in the tower though because as hard as it was going to be, he was determined to try and move passed the civil war, as Ross called it. For the sake of the world and his own well-being, he had to move forward and reforming the Avengers was the first step. Helping James Barnes was another step. Not only would removing the Winter Soldier programming be safer for everyone around him, but Tony knew the man deserved a Hell of a lot more from life than the hand he’d been dealt and Tony wanted to help him with that too, both in penance and in friendship. Tony had grown up idolising the Howling Commandos after all.

After months of contemplation, in his mind, Barnes was the only one who was completely undeserving of his ire and the one he probably hurt the most during the whole war, since clearly Rogers had never given a shit about their friendship in the first place and his bruises would have healed within days, unlike Tony’s.

Tony spent the next few hours alternating between staring at his blacked out windows, staring at the ceiling, and staring at the wall, before eventually giving up and dragging himself into the shower.

Unfortunately, the warm water did little to sooth his turbulent thoughts as he methodically cleaned off the sweat of the night. _Why did Wanda even want to return here?_ If she and Vision had indeed made up, he could understand her wanting to be close now that she was able to move freely again, but here? In Tony’s tower? He just couldn’t understand. Vision had mentioned her desire to thank him, perhaps even apologise but Tony hadn’t done it for her and therefore couldn’t accept either sentiment. What happened couldn’t be undone with an apology and since Wanda had always hated him anyway, the idea of her wanting to do so was understandably vexing.

He would just have to be polite, would try to be welcoming he supposed.

He hoped they would all return sooner or later. He was relying on their sense of duty and heroism to want to reform the Avengers after Tony had given them back their freedom and ensured any superhero team could operate almost exactly how the Captain had wanted the Avengers to all along. He fully intended to cajole and persuade and finagle any member of the Avengers who proved reluctant. So yeah, eventually he expected them all to come back to New York, just not to his tower. The compound was still fully functional and the new Avengers all seemed perfectly happy there before the Accords were proposed so Tony just presumed they’d move back there, or would get apartments or something, he didn’t know, but not for a second did he think they’d want to move back in here.

He grabbed a towel and dried off before hunting down some boxers, black jeans and a long sleeved black top with a science joke on it that Bruce had got him the Christmas before he’d left. Like the majority of his other tops, there were permanent grease marks rubbed into the material but he knew his fellow scientist wouldn't have minded. He made his way out to the kitchen and towards his coffee machine, not letting his thoughts linger on his absent friend. Instead, while he waited, he looked out the windows to watch as the cloud covered skies hardly let any light through, the threat of rain clear.

Tony thought it summed everything up quite nicely.

He was getting ahead of himself though, like always really. It was just how his brain worked, considering every angle, every potential solution to every possible problem, every minute of the day about everything around him and everything he did. It was exhausting sometimes but most of the time it was all in the background, having had plenty of years already of coping with the noise of his own mind.

Right now it was just Wanda, he reminded himself, no matter what Vision thought her return foreshadowed. Just one young Sokovian woman… Whose whole family’s deaths could be laid at Tony’s feet, their blood joining the rest that stained his hands an unseen crimson. A woman who had the power to bring Tony to his knees or march him into Hell itself with a smile on his face and a laugh on his tongue.

They'd hurt each other in such personal ways, Wanda and he, and although it had never been Tony’s intention to do so, he knew the pain he’d caused Wanda was no less than the pain she’d brought down on him in revenge. She was yet another victim and with that in mind, he made his way to the elevator.

“ETA for Miss Maximoff, Fry?”

“ _It appears her flight has arrived safely. Happy is currently escorting Vision and her back to the tower._ ” It had greatly amused Tony to witness Happy ordering FRIDAY to use his first name. FRIDAY had repeatedly tried to revert back to Mr Hogan but his chauffeur, bodyguard and close friend hadn’t taken any of that and had, the last time, refused to leave the elevator until she promised to change his name assignment permanently. FRIDAY had been so young at the time, was much more willing to follow any orders given to her than she was now. Now she'd probably threaten to gas the elevator. It had been part of the learning experience though, to realise that Happy was giving her a gift by allowing her to use his first name, one Tony knew she treasured as much as an AI could. “ _Perhaps you should meet them in the lobby?_ ”

He probably should, but there was always the chance of lingering reporters down there, especially since his fairly public dressing down of the highly decorated General Ross, or just loose tongued employees and Tony wanted to keep Wanda’s presence on the down low for now, since her reason for being here was unclear.

“No, let’s go to the common floor please FRIDAY.” Neutral territory, or as neutral as you could find in a tower that Tony owned and designed himself.

“ _As you wish, Boss. May I remind you that you have yet to inform Colonel Rhodes of the addition to the tower. It might be prudent to do so before she actually arrives._ ”

Tony sighed. His best friend had been away doing Colonel things at Tony's behest for the past week and this wasn’t something he wanted to talk about over the phone. He’d had plans that included a bar and a lot of whiskey but then Rhodey had sent him a message letting him know that things were going to take longer than planned over there and Tony had taken it as an opportunity to avoid talking about it all together.

“It’ll wait,” Tony replied to his AI, only wincing slightly at the thought of Rhodey arriving unannounced back at the tower before he’d had a chance to speak with him. “In fact just let him know that I need to video chat with him before he sets off back, alright FRIDAY? Can you do that for Daddy please?”

“ _As ever, I am honoured and delighted to use my extensive abilities to be your delivery girl. Boss,”_ FRIDAY added on the end like a swear word.

“Yeah, yeah. You just remember who gives you your upgrades, princess.”

The elevator stopped at the communal floor as requested and Tony was happy to see that despite FRIDAY’s abhorrence for mundane tasks, she’d started up the coffee machine for him down here. Having been at his side through the last six months, helping directly when she could and just looking after Tony and his co-conspirators when she couldn’t, FRIDAY knew how hard today would be for him. Coffee was a small but intrinsic measure to make sure it would go as smoothly as possible.

“Thanks Fry,” Tony said softly as he rinsed out his mug and refilled it, taking a seat at the breakfast bar and pulling a Stark Pad over to himself.

“ _My pleasure,_ ” she replied, the genuine affection that coloured her words making Tony smile a little.

Tony read through some emails. He sent replies off to some of the guys in R&D that were working on the Stark VRE apparatus, he’d yet to come up with a catchy name for the virtual reality hardware, and one to Pepper about rearranging tomorrow’s business lunch. He was glad his supremely talented CEO and close friend had decided to remain at SI following the official end to their “break”. Tony had known it was coming ever since he'd begun rebuilding his Iron Man armours after Mandarin incident. They'd both known he couldn’t give up Iron Man but that had just been the death blow, the relationship itself being more something the two of them thought they should do than something they both wanted. He loved Pep but he’d never been in love with her, and Pepper herself had admitted to being more in love with the idea of Tony than Tony himself. A recurring sentiment that was shaping up to be the story of his life.

He ignored emails from reporters and TV hosts alike and managed to convince himself not to browse the news sites in search of mentions of his former team members, instead looking further into the software side of the Stark VRE.

It served as a welcome distraction from the upcoming reunion and before he knew it FRIDAY was informing him of Vision and Wanda’s arrival.

He put the pad down quickly and stood, brushing down his clothes and smoothing back his hair a little. He took a few seconds to retreat behind a mask of indifference, unsure he could pull off friendly well enough to pass muster.

Of course if Wanda looked into his mind he was screwed.

He couldn’t say he trusted her not to, but he trusted Vision and that was going to have to be enough. He smiled as the elevator doors opened and Vision stepped out, Wanda following closely behind.

She wore faded grey jeans and a black tank top, red leather jacket hugging her figure like it had been worn a thousand times and would never fit another. He caught her eyes and it was only decades of practice that prevented his smile from faltering at the torn look in them.

“Miss Maximoff,” he said as they stopped in front of him. Wanda looked like she wanted to avoid his gaze but held it nevertheless. She’d always been strong, that one. He cut her a break after a few seconds of silence and turned his focus to Vision for the first time since they’d stepped foot on the floor. His body was relaxed but Tony knew the android well now and there was tension around his eyes, eyes that remained glued to Wanda as she took in the room.

“Mr Stark,” she eventually said and paused before going on. “I want to thank you for letting me stay here.”

Tony nodded at her once, it was all he was capable of as a familiar scene of death and destruction filled his mind alongside images of the miles deep hole in the floor of the compound that had been made with Vision’s body, both created under the force of Wanda’s magic.

Anger bubbled but he pushed it into a box in his mind and turned the key.

“There’s an apartment set up for you, well a floor really but that’s normal here in the tower,” Tony babbled, eager to get out of there, “FRIDAY will show you the way. Any questions you have, you can throw her way too. Or Vision could answer them.” Tony was starting to feel awkward as the witch stared at him, searching for what he wasn’t sure but Tony wasn’t inclined to share anything with her, voluntarily or otherwise. “I spend most of my time at SI, in the workshop or in the penthouse so don’t worry if you hardly see me.”

Tony scoffed internally at his word choice, like Wanda had ever worried over him a moment in her life.

“And if I want to see you?” She asked hesitantly. “I mean if I have questions only you can answer.”

The question threw him for a second. “If FRIDAY believes she can’t answer them, then she can pass the message onto me. If you ask her nicely,” Tony couldn’t help but add.

“Your computer requires manners?”

“My _artificial intelligence_ can be snooty and manners sure as Hell won’t hurt,” Tony said defensively, receiving a nod in acceptance of the correction. He’d presumed Wanda had met FRIDAY sometime during her months with the Avengers but perhaps not. Vision would bring her up to speed, why he hadn’t done so before was anyone's guess. Before either of them could say another word, not that Vision had added anything to the awkward conversation so far, Tony decided he’d had enough, had done enough. “Well, I’m off down to the workshop. All play and no work makes Tony a prime target for Louboutins.”

The confusion on Wanda’s face gave him a petty feeling of satisfaction but he enjoyed it greatly nonetheless, and as anxiety and fear began to drown out the swelling rage, he was grateful that it was the last thing he saw before he retreated down to his sanctuary for the next seventy or so hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you were wondering/worried, this fic will **not** be set up so that each chapter is a mini returning Avenger story. There’s nothing wrong with that kind of format, but it wouldn’t give me the time or scope to tell the story I want to, that’s all. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is concerned and Bucky thinks his frowny face is adorable. Clint is also concerned but plans to be a bit more proactive about it.

Bucky watched through the glass partition as Steve got more and more frustrated by whatever it was Barton had been going on about for the last half hour. He’d fear for the poor guy’s phone bill if the archer wasn’t currently forcing Steve to use his “Captain America knows best” face.

Bucky hated that face.

He turned back to the TV but the documentary on big cats he’d been drawn in by was already over. Since it was already closer to morning than midnight, instead of channel hopping he decided to turn it off and made his way over to the sofa near the fire, issuing a voice command to turn down the lights to thirty percent as he went. He pulled down the blanket Steve kept hung over the back of it for the times one of them woke with nightmares, or fell asleep in here trying to avoid them, and snuggled up into a corner underneath it. The smell of Steve combined with the softness of the material gave Bucky a sense of comfort he’d long since forgotten.

He’d spent a lot of time on the white leather three seater since their arrival in Wakanda, six months back. The Black Panther had been more generous than Bucky would ever have expected, let alone dared to hope for. It seemed that after discovering the true culprit of his father’s death, the Panther had sought to make amends and was glad to assist Captain America in mending his broken best friend.

Shame it wasn’t that easy.

The Winter Soldier was a constant presence in Bucky’s mind, a part of himself but also apart from himself. The Soldier had motivations and reactions of his own and sometimes they bled through to Bucky and sometimes they didn’t. Sometimes the Soldier took over completely and sometimes Bucky could fight him down. Himself down.

He was still getting his head around it.

The Soldier felt a little like the devil on his shoulder, an anti-conscience that whispered to him a tad more insistently than everyone else’s. After months of therapy, he had decided that his prefered way of describing the Soldier wasn’t as a foreign program exactly, but rather that the Soldier was a creation of his own mind, designed and constructed to deal with what HYDRA was making him do so that the rest of Bucky, who he truly was, remained innocent.

That last part was the bit he was still struggling with, hoped he would always struggle with when it was his own hands he saw killing people over and over again in a thousand different ways when he closed his eyes. The fact that the Soldier was a more integrated part of his mind nowadays was good in some respects but it also made him feel more responsible for the things he did under HYDRA’s influence than ever.

When the Panther, as the Soldier part of himself insisted he called T’Challa, out of respect or wariness Bucky wasn’t sure, had agreed to take in all the lost lambs, Bucky decided to lock himself away. He’d overheard the King offering Steve the use of his cryogenic chamber and where Steve had dismissed the possibility outright, while remaining as polite as he could manage to their gracious host of course, Bucky had seen safety.

However, the Panther was smart, something on which the Soldier agreed wholeheartedly. He refused to allow Bucky to lock himself away forever, forcing him instead to come out periodically for counselling and physical training as a condition of use. The training he’d told them all he didn’t need, having come out of cryo and straight into missions an uncountable number of times but the Panther had told him that just because his body could withstand it, didn’t mean he should have to go through that pain when he could just come out every now and then and stretch his frozen muscles.

The therapy sessions actually helped a lot, much to his surprise.

He’d been pushing back the other side of himself without much argument since Siberia, mainly because the Soldier was confused, at least at first anyway.  Bucky had tried to explain that there would be no more missions, no more orders, and as far as he’d been able to tell, the Soldier had taken that to mean he wasn’t needed anymore. For a few days after that, Bucky had hoped that the Soldier would just… disappear he supposed. In fact he’d probably kept hoping for that right up until the moment his first shrink had told him that was never going to happen.

Bucky’s anger had given the Soldier purpose and the rest of the session had not gone well.

The Panther had found a different health professional for the following week’s session, after they’d all agreed that the meetings should be more spread out. It may have taken him a little while to notice, but the sessions were just as difficult for the Soldier as they were for Bucky, his alter ego had lived through the memories after all, and it wasn’t just them either. The process proved to be hard on the rest of the building’s inhabitants too, the Avengers and Bucky’s conveyor belt of therapists taking the brunt of it.

The Soldier was so confused about the feelings he was developing, about what he felt regarding his own identity, how he felt about Bucky’s emotions as he recovered memories from both before and after his not quite death, about the acts the Soldier himself had committed. He was never meant to have feelings, wasn’t sure he wanted them and was certainly quick to let Bucky know when he felt a negative one. The more he learned about life outside of HYDRA, the the more he seemed to accept that what he’d done for all those years was bad, in a way that a child learned good and evil, black and white. It had taken a while to convince the Soldier that he wasn’t evil and it was one of the things that allowed Bucky to see a way forward, to give the Soldier a chance to be… alive, instead of looking for a way to stamp him out that likely didn’t exist anyway.

Once he’d accepted that he’d have to learn to live with the Soldier, he’d started trying to understand him. Through his own “talks” with the Soldier and the therapy sessions, he discovered that the Soldier had known of Bucky’s existence in his mind over the past decades, that his first mission had been given by that presence, Bucky, before he’d made himself sleep, as the Soldier described it. The mission had been a Primary Objective that was to be obeyed above all other mission objectives. It was simple by design, leaving no room for misinterpretation, but that just made it all the more terrifying.

Bucky had ordered himself to survive by any means necessary.

That one sentence, spoken inside his own mind without any hint emotion, had put Bucky back weeks of improvement. The knowledge that instead of continuing to fight HYDRA, he’d run away into the depths of his own mind and allowed the Soldier to protect him completely devastated him.

He’d chosen the deaths of other people over his own suffering and for that he would _never_ forgive himself.

The sessions continued though and they’d helped him get to the point he was at now, with a tenuous understanding of his own mind and a somewhat shaky truce with the darker part of himself about not needing to kill people anymore.

What could he say? He was a work in progress.

And when the Soldier’s thoughts and memories got to be too much, he’d just try to remind himself that the Soldier _was_ him and that he was the Soldier, the Soldier just had a whole lot less impulse control than the rest of him.

Most of the time the Soldier was almost scarily logical. He accepted Bucky’s reasons why he couldn’t have ice cream for breakfast, why he couldn’t wear the Soldier’s seventeen favourite knives to movie night or why he couldn’t murder the whole Dora Milaje as they slept, for example. Admittedly, the requests themselves were often scarier than what the Soldier accepted as a logical argument for the word no.

Annoyingly, ‘because they’d murder you back’ had not been among the accepted reasons.

It was only when the Soldier perceived Bucky to be in physical danger or emotional distress that he tried to force Bucky to cede control to him. One of the therapists had suggested that the Soldier was merely looking for a new mission but Bucky knew it was the opposite, that he was just following his original one.

So, anytime he felt an influx of emotion, be that fear, anger, or on one memorable occasion, humour, because while the Soldier understood emotions theoretically, he was only just beginning to feel them, the Soldier made an attempt to come out to play. In the latter case, Bucky had been discussing a shared moment of history with Steve, when the Soldier had taken his sudden burst of hysterical laughter and happiness as a sign that something was wrong. He’d swiftly taken over to deal with the perceived threat before Bucky had even realised what was about to happen, his guards down low around his oldest friend. That time they’d been lucky, Steve managed to talk the Soldier down with an awkward explanation of the instigating feelings. Watching the Soldier try to describe Bucky’s feelings to the leader of the Avengers, and seeing Steve struggle with laughter through a stilted explanation, was beyond embarrassing.

Really, he was just unbelievably thankful that the Soldier had either missed his wistful thoughts of small Steve’s big smiles or just considered them irrelevant, because clearly the nuances of social etiquette were lost on his in-house bodyguard. Bucky wouldn’t put it past the Soldier to blurt out any of Bucky’s more guarded feelings without batting an eye and with no regard for how they might affect Bucky or his relationships with those around him; be that his childhood *ahem* crush on his best friend, or his own self hatred and recurring despair. The Soldier just didn’t know any better.

Very occasionally the Soldier tried to take over simply to experience something for himself. Last week, the taste of popcorn had been such an occasion (totally Sam’s fault) and Bucky had, under the Panther’s advice and watchful eye, allowed the Soldier to take over for almost an hour. To nobody’s surprise, the Soldier had dominated the poker table during that time. Another time was when Bucky had been sparring with Steve, and Bucky had vehemently vetoed that desired experience through sheer mental force and stubbornness. He knew a bad idea when he heard one.

It all resulted in Bucky only going into cryo when he felt himself losing control now, when he could feel a violent takeover was about to happen, usually spurred on by memories or nightmares which were basically the same thing for Bucky these days. Steve, the Panther, Sam and Bucky’s current shrink, all insisted that the Soldier hadn’t tried to attack them the last couple of times he’d forced his way out before Bucky could get a hold on him, of himself, but Bucky refused to take that chance. Better he get to the cryo pod before the mental exhaustion of fighting off his other self during those episodes knocked him out and the Soldier gained complete control without any oversight at all from Bucky.

The stasis pod was his lifeline, his ever present safety net and the fear that it could be swept out from under him was paralysing in its intensity.

Mostly though, Bucky was just happy to have regained more of his memories and in doing so, was more like his former self if Steve was to be believed. The niggle was there, reminding him that good things didn’t happen to him, that they certainly never lasted for long. Assets don’t need good things, that’s what the Soldier had told him once. It sent a shiver through him now just as it had then, even though he knew the Soldier didn’t apply that reasoning to himself anymore, that he no longer thought of himself as HYDRA’s Asset.

Before Bucky’s mood could take a darker turn, his silent reflections were interrupted by Steve’s return. The original super soldier came storming to a stop in front of Bucky with so much excess energy that if not for his friend’s ironclad control over himself, Steve would surely be pacing from one end of the building to the other. As it was, Captain America was a jittery mess.

“So it’s not good news then?” Bucky asked as he reached out with his sole arm to pull the blond down next to him. Strangely, he had only happy thoughts about the destruction of his metal one. His shrink had called that healthy and Bucky had laughed hysterically for half the session and then sobbed and screamed for the rest.

Steve pushed a hand through his hair, making the red short sleeved shirt he was wearing pull even tighter across his chest. It made Bucky’s mouth water but now was not the time to allow his fantasies a stage in his mind.

“No. Yes. Kind of. Jeez Buck, I have no idea.”

Bucky huffed out a laugh, “You don’t say punk.” He grinned wide when Steve smacked his shoulder in reprimand. The man’s scowl was as adorable as ever. “Why don’t you just tell me what Hawkboy told you.”

“He heard from Wanda,” Steve said softly.

“First time anyone’s heard from her in a couple’a weeks isn’t it?”

“Yeah, and now I know why.” Steve took a deep breath, got up to walk over to the windows, looking out over the magnificent rainforest that circled the high tech palace. Bucky remained where he was; windows made him twitchy. “She’s going back to New York. To Tony.”

Oh. Well. “That’s her choice to make isn’t it?” Bucky asked tentatively.

Steve had barely spoken a word about the genius in over four months and only then because Bucky had brought him up after a counselling session, needing to talk his feelings through with his best friend. It hadn’t taken him long to realise that the wounds Stark had left on his friend ran deeper than he’d initially thought. Bucky was careful not to mention Stark again after that.

When the news broke that Stark had reformed the accords in a way nobody had thought possible, in a way that meant the rebel Avengers were _free_ , Steve hadn’t say a word for days. He’d locked himself away in his suite and no-one heard a peep from the rooms until almost a week later, when it sounded like a hurricane had formed in there and was tearing the room apart with no remorse. The following day, Steve had come down to breakfast and after speaking in private with the Panther, he’d entered the morning discussion about how God damn hot Wakanda was like nothing had happened. Bucky and Sam silently agreed to leave it be until Steve was ready to talk, but the super soldier never brought it up.

After Siberia, Steve had been nothing but angry and there was no way anyone could have missed it. He’d stormed around the Panther’s Wakandan Palace, once the new King had offered them Sanctuary, and he’d made everybody else miserable. It was obvious that Steve had been angry with both Stark and himself but even Bucky could never be sure which side had won the majority of his friend’s ire. He was certainly beyond grateful that he’d still been in stasis more often than not back then, although he’d still been the one to endure most of Steve’s bad mood and sour outbursts.

Steve had calmed down after a while though. He’d sent Stark a letter, not that Bucky was supposed to know that, and had kept his phone close to him at all times. That lasted for about two weeks and then the phone stayed on Steve but always out of sight. Bucky thought that out of mind was what Steve had been going for but why he didn’t just leave the thing in a drawer somewhere he didn’t know. It was clear Stark wasn’t going to call him and to be honest, Bucky couldn’t blame the billionaire.

Steve had gotten quieter after that and within six weeks of them arriving in Wakanda, everyone had gone their separate ways. Barton and Scott Lang had gone back to their families, Scott almost straight away and Barton after a few weeks. Since Scott didn’t live with his daughter, it had been easy for him to slip in and out to see her using his Ant Man suit so he’d mostly been able to just slot right back into his former life. Barton though, Barton had moved his whole family into the shadows to keep them safe and from what he’d gathered from the familiar Black Widow, Barton hadn’t stayed with them. According to her, that was partly to protect them and partly because his wife was none to happy about the archer’s eagerness to run out and turn his back on his friends and family alike.

The Widow herself stayed in Wakanda for weeks before disappearing one night without a word, although after a month or so they started hearing from her sporadically. Sam had chosen to stay with Bucky and Steve, volunteering his expertise to help with Bucky’s readjustment, as the Falcon liked to call it. Bucky appreciated it most of the time.

The Soldier was still unsure whether to refer to Sam by his call sign or not, sometimes he felt like a friend to Bucky and others an adversary. It confused them both at first until Bucky’s own brand of snark came back to him and now that their banter went both ways, it was a lot more enjoyable for all parties.

The Soldier was very particular about names and Bucky understood that designations helped him maintain order in the chaos he’d been dumped into involuntarily. It was a small price to pay to give that part of Bucky some small measure of peace.

Stark remained Stark though. Bucky insisted on the constant reminder of who the man was, of what both Bucky and the Soldier had taken from the man. Otherwise, Bucky referred to people in his mind by what the Soldier preferred. It was interesting, asking the Soldier how he came to his decisions, but often infuriating because sometimes Bucky could feel the Soldier’s own infantile emotions influencing his decisions, and others he knew the Soldier’s lack of empathy, or rather lack of knowledge, meant he had to draw his conclusions from Bucky’s feelings instead. It made Bucky angry and he found himself wanting the Soldier to grow as a person in his own right, but at the same time he feared for his own sanity if he actively encouraged it, even though he knew they’d never be able to harmonise back into one consciousness.

Steve was watching him with patience, probably presuming he was having a discussion with the Soldier rather than just himself, and Bucky pulled his mind back to the conversation at hand.

Wanda, too young and tortured in Bucky’s eyes to be branded as a Witch, had returned to Sokovia shortly after the Widow had left, aiming to help rebuild what she could. It would be years before the land itself resembled what it once was and the people would never be the same, but she’d said she had to try and fix what she’d helped to break.

Bucky wished there was something tangible he could do to help repair all the people, places and relationships he had broken but most were dead or damaged beyond repair.

“Clint thinks it’s a trap,” Steve replied eventually, avoiding the question of Wanda’s independence entirely. He felt the Soldier stir at the back of his mind at the vague possibility of violence.

_A trap would more than likely mean violence._

Hearing his own voice speak words that weren’t quite his in that cold, stoic tone was beyond freaky, even though or especially because it was inside his own head. Explaining the _feeling_ of that to his therapist had been an exercise in futility but at least she’d understood enough to take the Soldier into account during sessions. Something that none of the other psychiatrists, psychologists, neuroscientists or other so called brain experts that the Panther, Steve or the Widow had sent his way before Dr Samantha Keane had really done.

Perhaps, he thought back, but what reason would Stark have to imprison Wanda after freeing her?

_It is what I would do if my mission was to kill a group in hiding. Make them stop hiding._

The idea was… scary. No more missions, he sent back by rote as he quickly assessed the possibility. There were far more efficient ways for Stark to draw them out, ones that didn’t take up months of his expensive time, his AI ensured that if not Stark’s own intelligence. He felt the Soldier’s agreement, words unnecessary.

“And you? What do you think Steve?”

“The adjustments to the accords are legit according to my sources, I don’t see that Tony has any reason to lure Wanda to New York,” the Captain answered formerly, because that was how he sounded at the moment, like Captain America in a strategy meeting. He was acting nothing like the Steve Rogers Bucky grew up with, had fought a war with, had died for in every way that mattered. Bucky knew he was one of the few people alive that Steve allowed to get close to him and yet Steve was still hiding. Then again, Bucky suspected that Stark used to be one of those people too.

“Is that what Clint said happened? That Stark asked Wanda to come back?” It was like drawing blood from a stone, having a conversation with Steve about something he didn’t want to talk about. Bucky was getting tired of Steve’s avoidance though; from Stark’s recent actions, to Steve’s “mole” in Stark’s house, to the real reason the team had all left Wakanda; and now his friend couldn’t even talk to Bucky about his feelings on Wanda’s decision to go back to Stark Tower? Well if Bucky had to deal with his shit, then so should Steve. Didn’t the man realise Bucky would stand by him too?

He could feel the Soldier’s wonder at the mix of emotions.

_Why do you care how he feels if you are angry with him?_

It’s called being frustrated, he sent back wryly. I think it happens a lot around this guy if the bits and pieces I can remember actually happened.

He pushed the feeling at the Soldier a little, both to educate him and so that Bucky didn’t feel as alone in the emotion. Sometimes it was handy to share his brain.

“No, Vision’s her reason for returning to the tower. The two of them had a bond before the war and it looks like they both want to repair it,” Steve’s voice warmed a touch, longing maybe. Bucky could relate.

War. That General Ross needed a serious reality check. Yeah, what happened between the Avengers and company was vicious, but Bucky had lived through a war, kind of lived through a war anyway, and the so called Civil War paled in comparison. It was far from civil though, that was for sure and was obvious from the repercussions on both sides.

“Then Stark has nothin’ to do with it?”

“According to Clint, Wanda asked Vision if she could move back into the tower and according to Natasha, who has her own sources in New York, Tony readily gave his assent.”

The two men went silent and Bucky longed for the days where they could laugh and talk and take girls dancing and everything was so easy. A memory of a skinny blond turning blue, unable to catch his breath flashed through his mind and it took a moment for Bucky to remember who that was, that it was Steve before the serum.

There were some things he wouldn’t undo.

“I just don’t get it Bucky, any of it.” Stevie always did like the sound of his own voice. Bucky managed to contain his smirk. “Why would Tony do anything to help any of us, why would he accept Wanda into his home?” Steve sounded desolate, like Stark’s treatment was something he never expected to receive, like he daren’t accept it in case it was snatched away again. Bucky understood the feeling of something seeming so good that there just had to be a catch lurking in wait somewhere, waiting for the moment you let your guard down. He still woke up expecting to be back in the chair most days. It snapped him from his mirth and propelled him to fix whatever made Steve sound like that.

_Not fix. Hurt._

Well, it was well known that Bucky was happy to throw a punch or two in Steve’s defence, or whatever else was necessary so he couldn’t disagree with the Soldier there. In fact he was quite pleased that he’d only said hurt and not kill. Progress. However, Stark had already been hurt enough by all three of them and Bucky wasn’t convinced the billionaire was enacting some master plan to get back at them anyway.

“Maybe this is his way of apologisin’?” Bucky put forth, if Steve needed him to be the hopeful one right now then, well, then they were probably screwed but he’d at least try.

“You don’t know him, the man has never apologised a day in his life.”

Bucky didn’t believe that for a second but struggled to get a grasp on his reasoning. The man Bucky had seen in Siberia, who came to help Captain America and Bucky Barnes…

The Winter Soldier had his own data on the subject, had studied Tony Stark as part of his training and the files were always a part of the folder he was given upon exiting cryostasis, updated as time when on. Stark’s life and his habits, his friends or lack thereof, the literal heartache and heart-breaking betrayals, all that information was packed away inside Bucky’s brain. It had led the Soldier to the same conclusion as Bucky was coming to now, only Bucky understood the emotional side of it whereas the Soldier only took it as a sign of resilience. Clearly Bucky wasn’t the only one life had shit on and strangely, it made him see Stark as somewhat of a kindred spirit, as crazy as that sounded and as little as it mattered in the grand scheme of things, considering Stark was likely to shoot him on sight.

“If you say so punk, but what other reason would he have to make it so you can all go home, can go wherever you want? Hell Stevie, he’s made it so you can go back to Avengering. ‘Known superheroes govern themselves and each other’, that’s what that news woman said. You and Stark disagree on a lot by the looks of it, but protecting the world? That seems to be the one thing you agree on.” It was probably the most Bucky had said at once in who knew how long but if he could get through this fog that Steve had surrounded himself in, it was worth the uncomfortable vulnerability he felt at talking so much.

“I don’t know, not sure we ever saw eye to eye now,” Steve said, acknowledging Bucky’s words with a tired, self deprecating smile.

“I think you’re wearing tinted lenses there bud. Easy to make things look different when you’re lookin’ behind you.”

“You try’n’a be wise there Buck?” Steve asked, his Brooklyn accent peeking through as he teased.

“I’ve always been the wise one, you just never listen.”

Steve laughed and the warm sound pulled a rougher version out of Bucky. Humour sparkled beautifully in Steve’s eyes and Bucky let the moment pass naturally before speaking.

“Wanda has to figure things out for herself, just like you, just like me.”

“You’ve always got me though,” Steve said, collapsing back onto the sofa and nudging his shoulder.

“That’s a two way street remember,” Bucky said, leaning into Steve a touch. _To the end of the line_ , Bucky thought but didn’t say.

“Yeah, I know,” Steve’s lips lifted like he’d heard it anyway, just a little but it was one of those Stevie smiles that lit up the whole room. Bucky wanted to taste it but he didn’t deserve good things like Steve. Once, they might have had a chance of something more, but back then it was too dangerous for Bucky to see if his friend felt the same sparks of possibility as he did when their arms brushed during a baseball game. Then he was old enough to get the courage but the war happened, and then everything after it. Now… No, his friendship would have to be enough, the only thing he’d allow himself to have, the only thing he couldn’t manage to survive without.

Bucky thought about a genius locked up in his tower, thousands of miles away and yet seemingly even further when he looked at the perpetual sadness in his Stevie’s eyes. He thought about a superhero that should hold nothing but hatred for both Bucky and Steve but still gave them back their lives, a life that hadn’t been Bucky’s own in so very long.

He was leaning against Steve’s side as the blond reached for the television remote when the Soldier threw in his own two cents.

_Stark does not believe he deserves good things either._

 

* * *

 

Clint Barton, codename Hawkeye, ex-agent of SHIELD, current (as far as he’s concerned) member of The Avengers, ex-fugitive, the world’s most expert marksman and all-round badass hung up the phone, threw it on the floor and only just managed to stop himself from jumping up and down on it until his frustration subsided.

Wanda was in danger, why couldn’t Cap see that? Steve, more than anyone, knew how far Stark could and would go, to not only protect the people he loved, but avenge them. His girlfriend left him and his best friend was paralysed. Oh, and he found out that the accident that killed his parents and robbed him of any kind of childhood, even one as strained as Stark’s had been before the car crash if the SHIELD reports were anything to go by, wasn’t so much an accident as a carefully targeted assassination by none other than Captain America’s dead best friend. Then there was the Civil War and really, Clint was beginning to add ™ to that in his head now and if that wasn’t a testament to General Ross’ tireless media campaign against the “rebel Avengers” he didn’t know what was.

If Stark wasn’t seeking vengeance after all that, Clint would hang up his bow and call it a day.

Stark wasn’t saving them, he was hunting them. It was the only possibility at this point. He didn’t know why Steve couldn’t see that, but then the guy always did have a weird thing going with Stark and to Natasha and Clint, it had been endlessly amusing watching them play mom and dad, switching roles as needed but always looking out for their makeshift family. Fights happened, like in every family, but they’d always made up, they’d both known where the other’s heart lie, on the protection of the earth and its people.

Until they hadn’t made up that is, until an old “friend” of Cap’s came-a-knocking and Steve had dropped Stark like a sack of spuds, leaving a mashed up version of the genius on the ground behind him as he’d left.

See, Clint liked Tony. Hadn’t at first until Nat had pointed out the intricate lies the man wore like Nat wore leather. Comfortable, stylish, protective, lifesaving. Afterwards he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it himself, but Stark’s masks were the best he’d seen apart from Natasha’s, and maybe Phil’s. He certainly had Fury beat, that super spy got way too giddy when his plans came together and let his anger show way too easily when it would pay to keep his cool. Stark though, he knew how to play the game, had been playing it all his life.

It was why Clint could understand how he had everybody fooled but at his core, Stark was one of the most insecure people Clint knew. He dealt with that by distancing himself from everyone around him through disinterest, pig-headedness and standoffish behaviour amongst other means. He lashed out when he wanted to pull someone close, so Clint knew that even if Stark did want to make amends with the rest of the Avengers, his own personality would never allow it.

So either Tony Stark had been replaced by an alien and/or robot, or Stark was scheming and Wanda was in danger.

With those odds, how could Clint not take action?

He was the one who’d brought Wanda in after Sokovia, he’d told her the Avengers could be a family to her if she let them, that they would help her and protect her. The guilt of leaving her right after she’d just lost Pietro was one of the reasons he’d agreed to come back when Steve called. Tony’d had her locked up in the compound like a criminal when she’d done nothing wrong and once he’d heard that, there was no question of whose side he’d be standing on. Seeing Natasha on the other side was always going to be hard, but their friendship had been through a lot over the years and he’d known it would still be there when the dust settled. He understood that order appealed to her, the same way she knew how wrong that kind of oversight would feel to Clint.

Stark had surprised him when he’d shown up in that pimped up aquarium. Clint hadn’t known about The Raft’s existence, it must have been a military endeavour, but it certainly did its job well. Unless you pissed off Captain America of course, and imprisoned his comrades in arms, his friends and family. Stark though, Clint hadn’t been able to help throwing some barbs and guilt his way and he supposed to Stark’s credit, the man seemed genuinely shocked to see them there but how could he not have known? Even if he hadn’t, Stark had known they’d end up somewhere and Clint had made sure to point that out too. He wasn’t sure if it had been a good or bad thing that Sam had given Stark the information he’d wanted. At the time he’d thought it stupid but now, he might consider Stark the enemy still after he’d split up a team he hadn’t even belonged to anymore, but he’d deserved to know about his parents and it looked to Clint like the good Captain would never have told him if it weren’t for Zemo.

It was all irrelevant though. Stark had points, Cap had points, all Clint wanted was to live in peace, to get Laura and the kids back. There was a small part of him that knew he should never have gotten involved in the first place, that Cap had been unfair in asking him to leave his family and join his rebellion. Now though, he owed Wanda a debt, no two ways about it, and if she was in danger and Cap was going to turn a blind eye then Clint was just going to have to do something about it himself.

He chose to ignore the fact that it was down to Tony that he could now return to his family, the man’s reasons were unknown and unless he knew for certain that no harm would come to his family if he went back to them, Clint would stay away, for their own protection.

A two birds, one stone situation then, investigating Stark, but before he could do just that, Clint had to convince the genius to let him back into the fold.

Or maybe not… maybe there was a way to get to Stark without entering his inner sanctum at all.

He started putting the little gear he had back in his duffel, it was about time he switched safe houses anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony finds that old habits require old friends, Clint puts his training to use and Wanda tries to do something nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m truly blown away by the interest in this fic, I mean there are over 400 subscriptions for this thing. I guess I just want to say thank you for exploring this story with me, and special thanks to everyone who’s left kudos and/or commented. Knowing people are enjoying this makes me enjoy writing it even more.
> 
> Anyway, I’ll shut up now. Enjoy the new chapter! :D

“You look like shit,” were the first words that penetrated the inventing zone Tony’s mind had succumbed to, after his successful escape down to the workshop.

It still took him another couple of minutes to understand their meaning.

Blinking a bit, he put down the soldering iron carefully and removed his goggles, DUM-E happily taking them off his hands, if the cheery beeping was anything to go by. He squinted in the direction of the door, his vision more than a little blurry.

“Rhodey?” The fact that it came out a question seemed to irritate the fuzzy figure. Tony reckoned he was right on the money then.

“Who else would be dumb enough to come down here to drag your sorry ass out?”

Tony pulled a face. “My ass is fantastic I’ll have you know, won awards and everything.”

“You’re never letting that go are you?” Rhodey sighed as he walked up to the bench Tony was slumped against. If not for the delicate circuitry covering it, Tony might have considered just throwing himself over it and taking a nap.

“I told you I wouldn’t and I’m not.”

“You were in the armour.”

“Which is moulded from my ass.”

Rhodey chuckled and went to nudge Tony before clearly thinking better of it, Tony swaying ever so slightly. The fact that Tony then sat down meant nothing more than his chair was comfy, thank you very much.

“Wait, I thought you were in DC?” Tony asked, brain attempting to reboot but running on fumes. Mainly those of coffee with a touch of petroleum.

“I was, for eleven days, but now I’m back.” Tony’s oldest friend looked completely unamused, which, considering Tony was hilarious, was usually cause for concern. Unless Captain America was around, or the president for that matter, then no amount of squinting would allow Tony to see his Rhodey through the ever serious Colonel Rhodes. There’d been a time when Rhodey’s respect for the two public figures was both equal and unparalleled. Not anymore though.

Hold on, eleven days? Vision had only spoken to him about Wanda two days after Rhodey had left, then it was just under a week after that when she moved in… the simple math seemed to take years longer than it should have, compared to the lightening quick cerebral reflexes Tony usually had at his disposal. “I’ve been down here three days already?”

“So Vision tells me,” Rhodey says sternly. “I gave him a call after trying to get a hold of you through FRIDAY, like you asked me to I might add, with no luck since apparently, you told her to ‘tell Rhodey-bear I’ve been kidnapped by the fairy Queen Mab and must create her a magnificent portable thrown before she curses me into an everlasting sleep’.”

“I have absolutely no recollection of this.” Not a lie.

“Now that I know you’d already been awake for two days by then, I’m not surprised.”

Rhodey stopped talking and just watched him, like he was waiting for something in particular from Tony. Tony had no clue what was going on and stared back, eyes crossing as he searched Rhodey’s, making himself dizzy. He should probably sit down. Oh, okay then, it appeared he already was.

He really should get some sleep now.

Wait.

“Fuck!” Tony shouted, louder than intended but Rhodey, well used to his outbursts after all these years, didn’t even flinch. “Wanda!”

Rhodey’s eyes hardened, were suddenly colder than Tony had seen in a long time, not since they’d been sat around a long table in a glass room and Rhodey had faced down one of his childhood heroes in support of Tony.

“Yeah, Wanda.”

“Did you-” Tony started but Rhodey cut in.

“As I said, I spoke to Vision when you wouldn’t pick up and he filled me in.” Rhodey was tense in a way he never was, the pilot usually one to go with the flow. “What were you thinking letting her in the tower Tony?! She could be here to assassinate you for all you know, and here you are sleep deprived and vulnerable. Could you even fly the suit right now?”

“ _As per the Boss’ orders, he has, in fact, been locked out of the Iron Man suits for the past fourteen hours, after his biological readings dropped below acceptable levels. Barring a direct threat to the Boss’ or another’s life in his presence, that is_.”

“Well at least someone around here has some sense,” Rhodey muttered, or at least Tony thought he did anyway. The ringing in his ears was making it a little difficult to hear any sound under a certain decibel, which FRIDAY no doubt knew, but was apparently willing to not grass him up about, since there was no way Rhodey would let him stay down here working now anyway.

“You do realise that not only am I the one who programmed FRIDAY, but I’m also the one who gave her those safety protocols, right?”

“Tony, you might as well be laid out naked on a silver platter right now, and that’s really not an image I ever need to see again thanks, once was definitely enough.”

Tony was tempted to use the memory to distract Rhodey into just sending him off to bed without the lecture, but he knew this conversation would still be here in the morning. It was better they talked it through now, before Rhodey came across Wanda in a hallway somewhere, if he hadn’t already. Even if Tony wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders right now.

There was a therapist out there somewhere that Tony owed a lot of money to, because now that he was trying to be a more socially adjusted human, all this _wisdom_ was pouring out of the cobwebbed recesses of his mind. Obviously, somewhere along the line of his many years of both voluntary and court mandated therapy, Tony had actually took some of that shit in. Then again, he supposed that at his age, he _should_ be over putting off difficult conversations.

“If I’m really such an easy target, and Wanda really does want to hurt me, then surely she would have tried something by now. Not that she’d succeed with FRIDAY and Vision around though.”

“ _I appreciate your confidence Boss_.” Friday sounded an odd mix of sarcastic and sincere, like every other teenager, Tony imagined.

“C’mon Tony, you know she can overpower Vision and there are ways to circumvent even FRIDAY’s security protocols.”

“Don’t you listen to mean Uncle Rhodey, Fry. You’re awesome. And that’s just more support in Wanda’s favour then, since I’m still alive and all.”

Rhodey threw his hands up in obvious frustration. “I know you’ve worked hard to give them all another chance Tony, and I don’t pretend to understand why, after everything they put you through-”

“Put _us_ through,” Tony interjected with an obvious glance at the clear ridges under his friend’s jeans, created by the exoskeleton Rhodey couldn’t walk without.

“-But inviting Wanda Maximoff into our home! Seriously, just this once Tony, could you please explain to me just what you were thinking?!”

“I’m thinking that Vision asked me for a favour for the first time in his existence!” Tony was tired on so many levels and didn’t even try to fight down the emotion in his voice. “I’m thinking that reforming the Avengers will go a Hell of a lot easier if I don’t alienate its members any more than I already have. I’m thinking that after everything _I’ve_ done to Wanda, it’s _me_ she’s turned to for shelter, when she’s only just regained her freedom. I’m thinking that she deserves a safe place Rhodey, that we all deserve that, and no, I’m not completely comfortable having her here but if I don’t try to fix the Avengers, who will?”

Tony purposely didn’t mention his plans to help Barnes specifically. He’d sent Rhodey on his trip to DC with talk of responsibility and taking any precaution they could, it had just felt too personal to explain his true motivations, even to his best friend. Luckily, the Colonel had agreed enough with what Tony had said to go along with it on faith.

“The world needs the Avengers, Rhodey.” Tony needed him to understand, needed Rhodey in his corner on this, especially if Wanda was going to be staying here. There’s no-one he’d rather have at his back.

Rhodey watched him carefully and Tony let his friend see some of the pain he was still feeling, after all, he’d never tried to claim that everything was a-okay, but he also let Rhodey see his conviction, his belief that he was doing the right thing by letting Wanda stay with them. Tony let him see the dedication he had to getting the band back together, as he’d labelled the project what felt like years ago.

“Alright,” Rhodey said eventually, and suddenly Tony found breathing an easier task than he had a few moments ago. “Alright Tony, I trust you,” the words were accompanied by a one armed hug that tugged him out of his seat and against the Colonel. “Now, how about you come get some food? It’s coming up to supper time and I’m pretty sure I saw some leftovers from that Indian place you like upstairs.”

“I could go for some food,” he replied as he became aware of what felt like his stomach eating itself. He must have had an energy bar sometime in the last twelve hours right? “You accomplish the mission?” Tony asked as he adjusted his stance for walking, not willing to let go of Rhodey to do so and not sure he could do so without the help anyway.

The grin Rhodey shot him though, that made him wish he had the energy to do a victory lap around the workshop.

“Good,” Tony said, satisfied. His own beaming smile morphed into a jaw cracking yawn.

“Food then bed for you Iron Man, we can discuss the rest tomorrow. When you aren’t seeing two of me.”

“Think it might be three now actually,” Tony snarked without really thinking it through, all of it only serving to bolster Rhodey’s point.

“Food then bed,” Rhodey repeated but the affection was clear in his voice and Tony felt him ruffle Tony’s hair with his free hand.

Tony nodded sedately and slumped against his friend as they made their way upstairs, steady in the knowledge that Rhodey wouldn’t let him fall.

 

* * *

 

Everyone got that tingling feeling on the back of their neck sometimes, some left over biological response to stimuli that had been passed down from humanity’s ancestors. Their lives had depended on sharp instincts and quick reflexes, on knowing what was around you at all times. Humans weren’t at the top of the food chain back then.

Tonight’s prey had keener senses than most, if the amount of times he’d stopped to observe his surroundings was anything to go by. The predator was more than adept at the hunt though.

The alley he ducked into stunk to high heaven, but it would keep him hidden. A quick glance into the darkness revealed no threats, no movement at all at this time in the morning; this side of town was far too run down for the kind of clubs that would still be open at four in the morning.

He scaled the side of the building quickly, the movements were muscle memory of the oldest calibre after a lifetime of dependency on the skill. He rolled to a crouch after vaulting over the top, bow in hand with an arrow notched before any possible enemy could have thought to raise a gun. The rooftop was empty though, just how he liked them.

He made his way to the side near the main road, stealth at the forefront of his mind as he peered over the edge to relocate the target.

Clint knew he was in agent mode right now, he’d been teetering on the edge for longer than he’d care to admit. Everything was cool logic, probable scenarios and guaranteed outcomes.

Everything was easy.

He’d fallen back into the mind-set as smoothly as he had the motions and the two went hand in hand in his line of work. Clint had been a great agent, was still a great agent, but this target had been demanding everything from him for the last few nights and he’d only just been able to keep up, for the most part. He was pretty sure lady luck had been involved somewhere too.

The guy was fast.

After hours of trailing the target tonight though, Clint had a good feeling. Tonight he was finally going to be led back to the target’s home base, or so he hoped anyway. The previous nights had all ended with a boat load of frustration, he’d lost track of the target eventually every time, and every sunrise was the sign of another day Wanda spent in the lion’s den. Or maybe it was more like a spider’s web, Tony definitely spun tales as well as a spider spun silk.

He leapt to the next building, following the target at just the right distance as soon as he started moving again, the search of the space around him apparently turning up nothing. Clint smirked. A guy like that should think to look above him. He was just lucky that the only thing Clint wanted from him was information.

An hour of building hopping later and Clint was starting to feel his age. This maybe wasn’t quite as easy as he remembered. In fact, he definitely preferred fighting as an Avenger to the slow process of tracking a live target. Fights might take hours but at least they were interesting, and he’d take the cuts and bruises from weapons and tentacles to the dull monotony of follow-hide-seek-follow-hide-seek any day of the week. He knew he used to enjoy these kind of stealth missions but fights were just so much more vibrant. He wasn’t really sure when the change had happened but Laura was right, Clint couldn’t stop being an Avenger.

He’d known that already though.

When Cap broke them all out of jail, Clint had thought he’d try harder. He wasn’t ready to give up on his family, not then and not now, but Laura had told him he’d left without considering the consequences. That she loved him but had felt abandoned. She hadn’t had to ask for space, Clint had locked up his emotions before it got to that point and Laura, knowing him so well, didn’t push further. Instead of letting himself feel, he’d drawn on his training, something that had never failed him.

He’d evaluated the situation as he would have a mission, as an agent. The objective was to fix his family, so first, he’d moved them somewhere safe, made sure they had everything they needed there. Then he’d taken steps to have his family status moved to protected, under government law. He couldn’t do anything about himself but his family were innocent, and as much as General Ross would use any means necessary to capture the Avenger fugitives, Clint had friends in all sorts of places.

Before his plans were complete though, Stark accomplished the impossible and exonerated them all, ensuring Clint’s family’s safety by proxy. Clint had let himself hope for a moment too long and one conversation with Laura made it clear that everything between them was still very much a mess. It had hurt so much to watch her take the kids back to their house.

For a moment, he’d wished he could just switch off, let his training take over completely and become someone else, like Bucky and the Soldier. The awfulness of the thought, of what Bucky had been put through to enable the Soldier’s creation, shook him out of his misery and forced him to come up with a plan.

He started moving between safe houses, never trusting that he couldn’t be found if someone wanted to find him. He’d tried to find out exactly what Stark had done to gain them all their freedom but the maneuvers were wrapped in shadows and Clint couldn’t catch a glimpse of the truth from any direction.

He had a direction now though.

He watched his target enter a non-descript apartment building through a window on the third floor.

He’d stake the place out first to be safe, learn the patterns of the target and anyone else living with him. He’d sneak in and have a look around, see if he could dig anything up on Stark before he approached the target for information. He’d have to come up with a plan for that bit as well but it was best to get the lay of the land first.

What happened next depended on what the target knew, but Clint wasn’t going to leave without some answers. He’d find out exactly what Stark was up to, rescue Wanda, and then he’d return to his family. He’d work his fingers to the bone to repair the damage he’d caused but he had to ensure their safety first, for good this time.

One way or another, he would get his family back.

 

* * *

 

The smell of burning meat assaulted Tony’s nose as he padded softly down the corridor the following morning. A little closer and he heard the fervent whispers of an argument, one that ended abruptly when he rounded the corner and was stopped in his tracks by the sight before him.

Vision was trying to throw a damp towel over a flaming pan while Wanda looked perfectly calm, stirring the contents of one pot with a wooden spoon in her left hand and manipulating magic to stir another one that was out of reach, on the other side of her cooking companion. She spared a glance in Tony’s direction and gave him a small smile before returning to the argument.

“The pan is fine Viz, that’s exactly what is supposed to happen!” Wanda berated, dropping the whispers in favour of stern disapproval.

“I find it difficult to believe that such a fire would do anything but burn the contents to inedibility. Surely that would negate your efforts to make a nice morning meal for the tower’s inhabitants?” Vision stopped though, the dripping towel hung in his hands a foot above the now smouldering pan. Wanda stopped her magical stirring to push Vision’s arm away, throwing the towel that she snatched from him into the sink before resuming.

Had Tony stepped down a rabbit hole without realising? The thought almost made him laugh since in his world, anything was possible, but no, it seemed there was a simpler explanation in this instance.

“You’re making breakfast?” Tony asked from his spot in the doorway, moving slowly over to the counter after two pairs of piercing eyes made him feel like it was something he should do. Either that, or turn tail and run and this was _his_ God damn tower.

“I’m trying, but Viz here keeps freaking out and dowsing everything,” Wanda sends a smirk Vision’s way.

“You been spending time with Dum-E again?” Tony quipped but Vision only spared him an affronted look on behalf of his absent friend.

“May I remind you that I don’t actually eat and am here only for, how did you put it? Moral support?” He said to Wanda instead.

Tony had never seen Wanda blush before, hadn’t been sure it was possible to be honest, or he wouldn’t have been if he’d given it any thought. Maybe that was why he had no defence against the flicker of- of _fondness_ that he felt as he watched Wanda hide her face and spin back to the smoking pans, preparing a meal for them all, for _Tony_. She was nervous, he realised, thinking back on the tentative smile she’d given him when he’d entered the room.

“Would you just go set the table please?” Wanda huffed at Vision as she moved the pile of plates, cutlery and condiments over to the dining table with a wave of her hand. The android did as requested and Tony, not quite willing to remain in such close proximity to Wanda right now, followed him over to take a seat. Soon after, a mug full of steaming black coffee levitated over to him.

Tony had to admit that Wanda’s control over her magic was impressive. He remembered her explaining to Natasha once, how much harder it could be to manipulate small things precisely than to just throw a tank out of her way. She dished the meal out by hand though and soon the three of them were seated around the table eating, or just sitting in Vision’s case, in a silence that was neither comfortable nor awkward, lying somewhere between the two. It was the oddness of that silence that pushed Tony to break it.

“This is good Wanda,” he said after a few bites. Tony had yet to identify the meat in the dish but it was cooked to perfection, melting in his mouth as the soft notes of the various herbs and spices in the sauce hit his tongue and tingled. Nothing like his usual choice of breakfast, when he had any at all, but enjoyable nonetheless. “What’s it called?”

“I’m not actually sure of its proper name,” Wanda answered quietly, “My brother taught me how to make it. He told me he invented it but knowing my brother, I find that unlikely. I let him have his illusions though. He always called this dish, well, the best English translation would be ‘Pietro’s world famous breakfast mashup, ham style’.”

Tony wasn’t sure what to say to that.

“It’s a lot less wordy in Sokovian,” Wanda added wryly and it made Tony laugh without thought, but the smile Vision shot him, along with the returning faint blush to Wanda’s cheeks, made him think he’d done something right.

“Eating without me huh? I see how it is,” Rhodey said as he stepped up behind Tony, ruffling his already wild bed-head. “There more where that came from?” He asked as he waved the hand that had been petting Tony like a puppy around the table.

“You’d have to ask Maximoff,” Tony said with a smile but caught Wanda’s flinch at Tony’s use of her surname. It dulled the happy feelings he’d been building and made his next bite of the delicious food turn heavy as it made its way to his stomach.

This breakfast was clearly meant to be an olive branch and Tony may have just inadvertently brushed it off. It didn’t sit well with Tony, but was he really ready to let go of their history? To start afresh?

The flashes of previous nightmares that went through his mind would say no. There were still far too many nights where he saw his ex-teammates, his supposed family at the time, dead and dying around him, because of him. It didn’t matter that they were on the down and outs at the moment, any death resulting from Tony’s actions was a nightmare come to life.

No, forgiveness was going to take more than a nice breakfast, but… but it was something he wanted to give, and receive for that matter. Wanda’s visions of death were straight out of her memories and Tony had never denied responsibility for them.

“It’s a Maximoff speciality after all,” Tony followed up, trying to take the sting out of it a little but probably failing.

“If you would like to take a seat Colonel, I will make you up a plate,” Vision said, laying a hand on Wanda’s shoulder for a brief moment as he passed. “As my body does not need food, could not process it if I tried to eat, I am unable to give my opinion on the dish,” Vision explained as he returned, placing the brimming plate in front of Rhodey where he’d sat down next to Tony, before taking back his own seat on the opposite side next to Wanda. “I am glad that the two of you are willing to give Wanda feedback.”

“It has been a while since I have cooked for anyone,” Wanda said. Her voice was so quiet, so unsure, the girl herself so different from the one that had hurled insults and accusations alike at Tony during most of their previous meetings. Tony didn’t think either personality represented the real Wanda, but perhaps, now that they were living together and hopefully moving away from their bitter introductions, Tony would get the chance to find out who that was.

“Well I’d say you haven’t lost your touch,” Rhodey said after rapidly swallowing down his first few bites, “This is wonderful.”

“You should be careful or you’ll end up our resident chef,” Tony joked, hoping to see that blush again but it seemed the young witch had gotten herself under control.

“You should be so lucky Mr. Stark.” _Mr Stark. Huh._ He almost told her to call him Tony but from Wanda’s lips, the honorific didn’t sound like an insult or gripe, nor did it remind him of his father. He supposed it would do until he felt comfortable offering up his first name. He didn’t know Wanda at all, that was the thing. Unlike most of the others, they’d already been purposefully avoiding each other at all costs before the accords were even mentioned.

It wasn’t going to be so much about fixing the relationship in their case, it was more about getting past their issues so they could build one.

“I’m sure that would be true Miss Maximoff,” Tony answered, allowing honest amusement to colour his voice and Wanda seemed to settle back a little at the combination of words and tone.

Once they’d all finished eating, Rhodey volunteered the two of them to clean up, the other pair accepting gratefully.

After emphatically thanking their cooks, Tony loaded up the dishwasher while Rhodey filled the sink with some soapy water for the bulkier items that were best off being hand washed. Tony turned around when Rhodey nudged him, gesturing with his head at Wanda and Vision leaving, since he was up to his elbows in suds.

Vision had a hand on Wanda’s lower back as he guided her out while Wanda looked up at him like the contact was the most precious gift he could have given her.

Tony turned away quickly, the moment too private to be watched by the likes of him. He didn’t miss his friend’s frown but Rhodey let it go, changing topic instead.

“So I had to give the Pentagon a little more than you were hoping for.”

“Ahh,” Tony said as he set the dishwasher to the right setting and hit start, “I figured from your delay that they were pushing for weapons too, I mean we knew that would be the case from the start. You offered them the agreed alternative?”

“You should have seen the Commander’s eyes light up at the mention of retractable body armour. You’d have taken a picture no doubt,” Rhodey grinned.

“You could have at least taken one for me, since you forbid me from going there myself honey-bear,” Tony moaned.

“Tony. I love you dearly, when you’re not driving me nuts that is, but if you had gone, those meetings would have gone on twice as long and you’d have pissed everyone off in the process, only for the outcome to be exactly the same as the one we have now. Without burning any bridges I might add.” Rhodey was smug but since he was also right, Tony chose to ignore it.

“They sent it back with you?” Tony asked quietly, unsure if he was actually ready to see the item they had worked so hard to track down.

“No. They were holding it in a secure facility, it will be couriered over here by a Special Forces team on Friday.”

“No subtlety that lot,” Tony muttered. “It never occurred to them that I could just wiz over there and pick it up myself.

“It’s a _secured facility_ Tony, its whereabouts are supposed to be top secret,” Rhodey answered but only looked at him fondly.

“Yeah, supposed to be, ‘cos you know FRIDAY could get me their address quicker than it would take me to get there. And my suit is faster than ever after the most recent upgrades.”

Tony was the smug one now, there was nothing like bragging on his tech first thing in the morning. He grabbed another cup of coffee and watched Rhodey as he worked.

“You could grab a towel and dry these you know,” Rhodey said but obviously expected nothing to come from it.

“But Rhodey! This is only my second coffee of the morning!” He wasn’t counting the one he’d had upstairs, the first one of the day was more a requirement of waking than an energy providing beverage. Totally didn’t count when you couldn’t even taste it.

Rhodey answered by chucking suds at him.

“So, Wanda cooks huh?” Rhodey asked, distracting Tony from getting revenge. He wiped the foam off his face and glared as he answered instead.

“Apparently so.”

“She thinks food is the way to crack your walled up heart then.”

Tony shot his friend a dirty look. He clearly wanted to talk about feelings.

Tony preferred taking action.

“She’s here to stay Rhodey, for now at least, for as long as she wants. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you who I can and can’t let into my own tower.” His friend knew him well enough to hear the real apology in amongst the clutter.

“It’s fine Tones. I’m fine. I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

Tony would have laughed if it wasn’t so absurd. He’d never _stopped_ hurting, not since his friends had refused to even listen to him, since they’d stood against him, believing him to be the villain. Not since he’d found out his best friend had lied to him for months and had the truth of it all shoved in his face by a bastard like Zemo.

No matter how often he told himself that Zemo had been the real villain during the war, that HYDRA were the ones behind the pain of his parents’ deaths, he couldn’t stop the anger that threatened to overwhelm him at the memories of his friends’ actions. Of Steve’s.

“I’m dealing with it. I really am this time,” Tony added at the incredulous look Rhodey shot him. “Fixing the Avengers… That’s the only way I know how to work through it all. That’s what you want right? You and Vision? You don’t want me to bottle everything up and bury myself in work, that’s what you said.”

“That’s what we said but I don’t want you putting their well-being before your own either. If you’re not ready to forgive them-”

“I need exposure Rhodey, otherwise I’ll never know for sure if I _can_ really forgive them, and the world needs to be protected. I’ve always believed in the Avengers, just because I’m not part of that now, doesn’t mean I don’t think there’s a need for them, that they can’t still do some good.”

Rhodey dried his hands and chucked the towel onto the counter. He was listening, considering what Tony was saying, and that was exactly why they’d remained friends for so many years. Tony knew the war wasn’t just on Steve and his comrades, Tony should have considered Bucky was innocent way earlier than he did, but they were certainly a part of it and he thought both sides needed to admit that, before they could begin to heal. Tony wasn’t sure that was possible of course but God did he want it to be. He didn’t want to carry this anger and sadness around forever. Of course he knew what the biggest problem would be, who it would be.

_Cross that bridge when it comes_ , Tony reminded himself but the words were starting to ring hollow.

“As long as you know it’s okay to be angry,” Rhodey said.

“We all have a right to be that,” Tony said, knowing Rhodey wasn’t going to leave this alone until he understood where Tony’s head was at. “Angry at each other, at HYDRA, at the government officials who put money before the welfare of real people’s lives and livelihoods. No doubt Steve and Co. are still fuming themselves. I know this won’t be easy Rhodey, but if I hadn’t made the first step here, who would have? Steve’s too pig headed even when he’s right and that was the whole problem from the start wasn’t it, we were both right but the choice was being taken out of our hands and where I could see a way to fix that from within, Steve thought it would be better to turn his back on the whole damn system.

“It’s not just about me forgiving them, because there was wrongdoing on all parts, it’s about fixing something that’s been broken for a while. Before the war, there was Ultron and before that… The Avengers were thrown together and told to work. Right now, if we want the Avengers to work in the future, it’s got to be different, we’ve got to make it different. That starts with working out _together_ how to move forward from here. And to do _that_ the Avengers have to be in the same place at the same damn time without ripping into each other, and by that I mean neither physically nor verbally, and with the willingness to have an actual grown up discussion instead of an argument.”

“And that’s what you’re trying to facilitate,” Rhodey asked but it wasn’t really a question.

“Yeah,” Tony answered anyway, letting all the belief and determination he felt show in that one word.

Rhodey watched him carefully, silently, for minutes that Tony thought wouldn’t end. He tried not to shuffle under the gaze but it was hard. Just because he’d had a few epiphanies and was willing to start approaching stuff like this, feelings, like an adult when absolutely necessary, didn’t mean he was willing to stand there and let his best friend see into his soul. Before he could pull away and into himself again though, Rhodey nodded.

“Okay then,” was all he said as he pulled Tony into a hug, one which Tony readily returned.

“Okay,” Tony repeated into Rhodey’s shoulder, and he really hoped it would be.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve holds on tight to his beliefs as his mind spins out of control and Tony’s day is about to take a sharp corner towards crazy town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I won’t bore you with real life details but in the end, I just got really nitpicky with this chapter. Hope you enjoy a look inside Steve's head! :D
> 
> Just for safety’s sake, there are **vague thoughts that could be interpreted as being about self harm** in this chapter. I’ve also added a tag for depression, because some of the language I use is taken from my own experience with the illness, even though I may not label anyone as such in writing. I just want everyone to have all the warnings they need. :)

Steve wasn’t exactly known for his subtlety but he was pretty sure that neither of the two men in the kitchen had noticed him hovering outside the door.

He was too warm and covered in sweat, running with King t’Challa in the Wakandan jungle behind the palace was a whole lot different from jogging around Washington DC with Sam. Steve hadn’t felt this drained after a workout in years. He’d been on his way to grab a shower when he’d heard them, his sharper (only just in Bucky’s case) hearing picking up their murmurs before they became aware of his return. He’d been about to call out a greeting when he’d heard Wanda’s name and, well. His ma had always told him his curiosity would get him into all sorts of trouble.

His friends had been unusually close recently, their heads close together whenever Steve walked into a room, only for silence to fall and false cheer to take it’s place. It might not be particularly kind to spy on his them now but if there was something going on, he needed to know about it.

“-okay then?” Steve picked up Bucky’s lowered voice easily, the idea of privacy in the palace a mere illusion the room’s inhabitants were clearly choosing to believe. Even if Steve hadn’t stumbled across them, the Dora Milaje were never far away from Bucky, from any of them really. Well, from just the three of them now.

“She’s even picking out some new curtains for her bedroom tomorrow,” Sam replied, the humour in his voice clear.

“So it looks like Stark’s on the level after all.”

“It seems that way, yeah. Wanda sounded almost happy, the happiest I’ve ever heard her anyway, but then she did say she’s been spending time with Vision and he’s always helped to ground her. She said Tony’s been polite when he’s been around but that mostly he’s stayed in his workshop.”

“Stark doesn’t seem like the type for heartfelt conversations, actions speak louder than words and all that. Makes sense he’d avoid her.”

“Guess you two have something in common after all, you’re not exactly the warm and cuddly type either Barnes.”

Steve knew how hard it was for Bucky to talk to a professional about what he’d been through, about how to deal with the terrible things he’d been forced to do, and about what he was going through now, as he tried to find himself again. The Bucky he had known as a kid would have balked at the thought of talking about feelings too. He’d been the same way right up to the war, until Steve had gone through his serum-induced transformation and finally got himself onto the battlefield, after rescuing Bucky from HYDRA. They’d had no choice but to open themselves up to each other after that, because beneath all the bravery and gallows humour that every soldier relied upon to make it through another day, there’d been pain and death, misery and hopelessness.

In the middle of the night, dug in deep at the bottom of a trench, Steve and Bucky had whispered to each other about fear and loss and pain and-

Steve turned his mind away from the thought, it would do no good dwelling over a past moment that Bucky couldn’t even remember. He wasn’t the same person now, Steve had to accept that or he’d lose any chance of getting to know this new version of his best friend. The point though, was that they’d seen too many good men collapse under the weight of war and Steve and Bucky had refused to let that happen to them. It meant that Steve knew Sam was wrong twice over while still being right.

Bucky cared more than anyone knew, just like Tony. In fact the thing they had most in common was that they both cared too much about everybody else and too little of themselves.

“He’s trying,” Bucky said eventually, and Steve wasn’t surprised his friend had such a good read on Tony. The man’s knack for seeing people’s weak spots existed way before the Winter Soldier did, except that back then, he’d taken one look at a skinny punk ass kid with a stubborn streak a mile wide and chose to help build him up, when the Soldier had only ever been taught how to tear things down. Bucky must have caught what Steve had known for a while now, that Tony was always _trying_ to do the right thing. It was one of the engineer’s biggest strengths and yet it always seemed to make him vulnerable.

“Wanda’s safe. That’s more than any of us dared to hope for, back in those cells on the Raft.” Sam didn’t sound bitter, but then he was the best out of all of them at accepting what he couldn’t change. Steve had been careful not to turn his friend into an agony aunt, but there was no doubt that having Sam’s calming presence and understanding ear around had helped to stabilise the team since he’d joined it, before the Accords threw a wrench in the works anyway. Although if Steve was honest with himself, the new Avengers team had never worked quite how they should. Maybe a lot of that was down to Steve himself.

He’d never felt truly stable since long before taking a stand against the Accords, before Ultron was released into the world and before he’d gone head to head with the Winter Soldier, only to find out he’d been fighting the best friend he’d lost a day before he’d lost everything else.

He didn’t have to go so far back as to predate his nap in the ice to find peace though. There’d been a time after meeting the original Avengers that he’d been speeding across America on a motorbike, sending photo messages to a billionaire who’d definitely had better things to do with his time than send an old soldier ridiculous tourist facts about the locations the images depicted.

Those had been the first peaceful moments Steve had felt since arriving in this new century and were some of his favorite memories.

When the road trip had led him back to the east coast, Tony had offered him a room in his tower that turned out to be a whole floor and even after finding out Bucky was alive, and all he’d wanted to do was chase him down and keep him safe, he’d still felt at home in Avenger’s tower, if far from stable in himself. That feeling of safety and family had lasted right up until Tony’s good intentions almost led to the destruction of an entire country.

The Avenger’s compound had always felt cold to Steve, never like home, but the Avengers were his family and it had been hard not to settle into a pattern that could have approached stability with their warmth and humour surrounding him. Bucky’s situation and Tony’s absence had weighed heavily on him though, and he’d never quite found a rhythm.

Then the Civil War happened and Tony and he were flung further apart while Bucky became ever closer. Suddenly, Steve had his best friend back, the guy that had been the other half of him for so long, the guy he’d watched fall from a train and never expected to see again. And yeah, his first crush.

The man currently discussing movies with Sam on the other side of the wall wasn’t that Bucky anymore though. There were flashes of him, and although he was happy being called Bucky and had a lot of his memories back, he would never quite be the same person. Steve was slowly coming to terms with that though and this new version of Bucky was making himself at home just as close to Steve’s heart as the original had.

“How’s he doing?” Sam asked softly, the words drawing Steve’s attention back to the pair. There was not a doubt in his mind about who Sam was talking about; Steve had heard that same sad tone over and over from all of his teammates since arriving in Wakanda. It was often quickly followed by frustration and the two men did not disappoint.

“He ain’t talkin’ to me, not about any of this anyway. I was hopin’ he was talkin’ to you,” Bucky’s accent still grew thicker when he was moping and Steve had to fight back a smile.

He could imagine their matching scowls easily.

It was obvious they were talking about him, but he still couldn’t bring himself to walk away. So much for Captain America’s perfect morales, although those beliefs had probably gone out the window around the same time Steve had started throwing his ex-teammates through them.

“It’s not good for him, holding everything inside like he has been. Does he even realise how it’s affected the team? I mean, I didn’t call Wanda, she called me so that we wouldn’t worry. Not Cap, me.”

“Natasha called me,” Bucky added, voice gruff as if he hadn’t really wanted to say it.

“She find what she was looking for?”

“You know what that was?”

“No,” Sam said and Steve could tell it was the truth, “but the way she just vanished… She was either escaping or chasing something and Natasha doesn’t strike me as the bailing type. She wanted to help you.”

Bucky grunted and after a few moments of silence, Steve thought that would be it. He almost made a move to leave as silently as he’d come in but Bucky’s words stopped him in his tracks.

“She’s talking about heading back to New York too.”

Steve held his breath, his mind whirring in a hundred different directions. Natasha had not only gone against Tony’s wishes and let Steve and Bucky go at the airport, but she was also the only other Avenger who’d known about Bucky’s role in Howard and Maria’s deaths as long as Steve had. That she would go back to him after that, that she would put Tony through that all over again, every time he saw her, was downright cruel in Steve’s opinion.

Steve wouldn’t, couldn’t, force Tony to have to deal with that. It wouldn’t be fair. He’d seen the hurt in Tony’s eyes, the hatred the genius had felt as Steve and Bucky went so far beyond just defending themselves and each other. It didn’t matter if this freedom Tony had given them was meant to rebuild bridges, it was Steve who’d burned them all down in the first place. What right did he have to want to rebuild them now?

Tony was far better off without Steve in his life anyway. Tony had made him happy, had made him forget he was a man out of time, just by being himself. He’d badgered and pushed and prodded and somewhere in the midst of it, Tony had become Steve’s closest friend. Then Steve had thrown him away, ignored the growing spark inside of him, telling him that Tony could be something more if he only dared to push back. Tony had given him a home and a family, he’d given him _life_ again and in return, Steve had done nothing but hurt him. He’d been causing Tony pain long before he was found alive in a block of ice.

Howard Stark’s messed up version of parenting was something he’d fought against believing at first but as the years passed, he’d seen it with his own eyes, the effects of Tony’s childhood. He saw the walls Tony put up when someone showed him kindness, he saw the well hidden flinches that Steve only spotted himself because he was watching Tony so closely. He saw the shallow interactions and the way Tony danced around people, never letting them get close while making them feel like they were the centre of his attention, if only for that one conversation.

Tony deserved peace too and he wouldn’t get that with Steve around, so he’d stay away, no matter how many of his friends decided to do otherwise.

Sometimes it felt like Steve had chosen Bucky over Tony and those were the worst days. He’d stay in his room alone and punish himself by replaying memories of Tony over in his mind, both the good and the bad because they all hurt to remember now.

That wasn’t the truth though, Steve had done what he’d thought was right, it was just that there were different versions of right and wrong and Steve and Tony had seen things differently.

It was right that Bucky shouldn’t be left alone to suffer when he’d already gone through so much. It was right that the Accords forced responsibility. It was wrong that Bucky should be held accountable for his actions under HYDRA’s control. It was wrong that the original Accords took away control from the people who had the power to help.

It was right that Tony had considered what was best for the people they protected but it was wrong that he’d let fear push him into accepting the Accords before they came to a united decision.

It was right that Steve had refused to sign the Accords when he thought they would stop him from helping people but it was wrong that he’d let his own ego stop him from hearing Tony out, that he hadn’t trusted Tony enough to give him the chance to explain.

Fear and pride were the downfall of many good people but it took courage to be seen as the bad guy for doing something good.

Tony had been doing a good thing. He might have let fear guide his actions but he’d succeeded in changing the accords to what the world needed, just like he’d planned. Could he have done that before the war? Steve would never know, but having to exonerate his ex-teammates could only have made the job harder. Steve should have listened and it was that guilt and regret that had him keeping his distance from everyone, snapping at those that tried to get close because at least half of the whole mess was on him and what had he really achieved? Tony had listened eventually, he’d made the effort to see things from Steve’s point of view when Steve had only been thing of Bucky and the possibility of more Winter Soldiers. Once he’d found out the truth though, that Bucky had been framed and there was an immediate threat to civilians, Tony had tried to help. He’d put aside their disagreements about the Accords and his concern for Bucky’s mental state and joined them in Siberia to fight by their side.

If Steve had listened from the start, would Tony have listened too? Would he have stood by Steve’s side then and helped Bucky from the beginning? Could they have compromised over the Accords?

Those were the questions that kept Steve up at night but the answers didn’t matter now.

Maybe after Tony had made the first step and Steve listened, they’d have been able to talk things through. Maybe after defeating Zemo and destroying his Soldiers, Steve would have listened and Tony would have slowed down, maybe they’d have come up with the best solution together, like they’d done so many times before.

It didn’t matter now because Zemo’s goal had never been to recruit enhanced soldiers. He’d wanted to ruin the Avengers, or rather, he’d wanted to see them ruin themselves. Steve had sealed Zemo’s victory that day long before he’d ever heard of the Sokovian Accords. Tony’s parents… Their deaths had done so much to shape Tony’s life.

Steve had told Tony in his letter that he knew he’d really been protecting himself and that was true, but he’d also been protecting Tony and Bucky.

Howard and Maria’s deaths weren’t Bucky’s fault but Steve had known that Tony’s first reaction would be anger, as it always was when something shook his beliefs. Whether it be aimed at others or himself, anger was his go-to emotion at being surprised and in this matter, it would have been, it _had_ been, justified. It was just that Bucky didn’t deserve to be the target.

Steve had known that eventually, Tony would realise that Bucky was just as much of a victim as his parents had been, but he’d also known how much suffering the knowledge would still cause them both.

So instead of telling Tony what he deserved to know (hindsight allowed him to see how controlling his actions had been), Steve had protected both of them by not saying a word and yes, he’d been protecting himself too. He hadn’t wanted to lose either of his friends, hadn’t wanted to be forced to take a side or watch as his friends were eaten alive by anger and self-disgust. He hadn’t wanted to see the loss and pain on Tony’s face and know that he’d been the one to put it there, not when his silence could prevent it.

Steve knew that same silence, when Tony had asked him for the truth after being made to watch his parents die, had hurt just as much as anything else had that day, as much as seeing the video itself had but the thing was, he’d do the same thing again. He would have tried to spare Tony the pain of knowing. He would always chose to save Tony from any pain he could. Tony had meant-

Steve closed his eyes, let Bucky and Sam’s continuing chatter fade further into the background as he let himself see Tony in his mind. He’d shied away from everything related to his friend for months now and the image burned, a mix of elation and pain set his skin on fire as want and regret fought their way through his body in a visceral reaction to the image of the man. No-one could remember things quite the same way as Steve, the serum allowing for crystal clear pictures and video footage of his life at his beck and call.

Tony _still meant_ so much to him, that if given another chance, he still wouldn’t tell him the truth he’d read in SHIELD’s files. It was so wrong and Steve knew if he’d put that in the letter that Tony would probably be hunting him down with the same viciousness as General Ross right now but he couldn’t help how he felt, couldn’t help the desire he had to keep Tony safe from any and all kinds of harm. Unwanted as that protection may be.

If Steve had been the one to tell Tony that Bucky was the weapon that killed his parents, it wouldn’t have lessened the pain at finding out. They’d still have argued about the Accords, they’d still have fought at the airport, in fact everything probably would have stayed the same right up until Siberia. Zemo would still be caught, albeit by Steve, Bucky and Tony themselves more than likely and Tony would still have had to watch the actual event itself when Zemo tried to turn them against each other.

Zemo’s plan would have failed, Steve knew Tony wouldn’t have attacked Bucky had he already known the truth and had time to accept it, but they’d still of had the Accords to sort out and Steve and the rest of the Avengers would still have been labeled as criminals.

The biggest difference would have been that Tony maybe wouldn’t be as angry at Steve as he was right now, but what kind of man would Steve be if he chose that difference over giving Tony a couple of extra years without knowing his parents were actually taken from him by design, that the man who killed them was a broken version of himself being controlled by an organisation that could likely never be fully defeated.

That his dad had died because he’d been trying to recreate the serum Steve himself had flowing through him. The repercussions and implications of that one weren’t something Steve was ready to deal with.

Steve had no idea what Tony’s current feelings were about Bucky but since he was included in the pardons they’d been granted, he hoped he’d made some sort of peace with what happened, for Tony’s sake. All that pain and anger would tear at him and he already carried so much on his shoulders.

Steve’d been too harsh the other day, angry and rash when he’d told Bucky that Tony never apologised, lashing out in a way that he despised and yet seemed to be becoming more frequent. There were few people in the world that took their mistakes to heart like Tony did. Steve wanted so badly to fix things but at the same time his own guilt fed the belief that he didn’t deserve forgiveness. He knew he wasn’t solely to blame for their discord but he’d damn well done enough and then some. He’d turned a political disagreement personal, when the situation had already been on a no u-turns road to disaster. His internal battle was irrelevant though, the decision wasn’t his. Tony wouldn’t give him the chance to fix things and Steve had to accept that, if he’d wanted to, he’d have called.

It should have made things easier but it didn’t.

Steve crept away down the hall towards his rooms, not wanting to hear anymore. He’d cooled down while he’d been eavesdropping and the dried sweat on his skin was starting to itch anyway.

Natasha could go back to New York if she wanted, Steve held no sway over the rest of the team now and after siding with Steve had cost them all so much, it was only right that they should be free to make their own decisions from now on. He’d been quiet and angry and bitter and lost, so very lost, since they’d arrived in Wakanda. He’d had nothing but time and space to see his faults and it pushed him into the kind of sadness it’s hard to crawl back out of. If not for Bucky, he wouldn’t have even tried.

Tony had never responded to his letter, never called the number he’d put in the phone. Steve had tried to open a dialogue between them but Tony clearly didn’t want to talk. He’d been angry at first, that Tony wouldn’t give him a chance, but now? It was too much to ask for, Steve knew. The letter had been about Tony, had been about letting the man know he’d have Steve’s support if he needed it, if he wanted it. Steve couldn’t help but be a bit selfish though, couldn’t help wanting things he couldn’t have, couldn’t help wishing that his phone would ring.

Who the Hell was he trying to kid, the letter had been borderline arrogance, as true as the words and his intentions had been at the time. He’d almost killed Tony, how could he possibly think for a second that the man would want anything to do with Steve after that.

The most he could do now was watch over Tony from a distance.

He’d watched as Tony took the lead on various missions, Rhodey and Vision were strong allies but Steve was still thankful that nothing big had crawled out of the woodwork while most of earth’s heroes had been immobilised by the Accords. Steve didn’t know what he’d have done if he’d thought Tony needed help, knowing all the while that his help wouldn’t be accepted. If he called though, Steve would be there no matter the risk and truth be told, if Tony had needed him in any of his missions so far, really needed him, Steve would have gone anyway and because of that, he’d hoped and prayed that the villains of the world would remain just as wary of Ross as the heroes were. He didn’t want to have to see that look of betrayal on Tony’s face ever again and if he’d turned up to assist without being asked, that was exactly what he’d have gotten, along with repulsor fire he imagined.

Tony didn’t need the constant reminder of the past around him. Even if he seemed to be choosing to do just that by letting the Avengers return to the tower, Wanda and Natasha anyway, he wouldn’t hurt Tony ever again. Instead of daydreaming of the tower and it’s resident genius, of things he could never have by his own doing, Steve should focus on himself, on sorting out what he was going to do now because Bucky didn’t need him either.

And that was the problem wasn’t it? At least Captain America had been needed in this time but now that the public either feared or hated him, he had no reason to try to be him again. With no Tony to ground him and Bucky seeming further and further away by the day, he was struggling just to fight against the rising tides of guilt and hopelessness.

He stripped and showered with the efficiency of a soldier, thoughts whirling around to the point that Steve was thankful the serum made headaches pretty much impossible. A falling building could give him one sure, but his own sabotaging mind was restricted in its ability to cause him physical harm.

Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed a towel, rubbing himself dry with vigorous swipes that turned his skin red for barely a moment. He always looked so perfect, his skin and bones always healing, like there’d never been any marks there at all. He should be made to wear the scars from his mistakes like everyone else, without them it was easy to forget he was just as human, just as fallible.

He’d have to work harder at reminding himself from now on. He would do everything he could to never make the same mistakes again.

He wasn’t sure if he could ever be Captain America again, even if he was forgiven by the public. When Bucky had reminded him that it was a possibility now, Steve had only felt fear at the responsibility. The Avengers were gone. Steve was sure they regretted ever helping him, at least on some level, although they were all way too stubborn to ever say so. Without Captain America though, what would he do, who would he be?

Steve Rogers’ only remaining tie was Bucky and he would stay with him as he continued his recovery, help him deal with his returning humanity and the fear he had over the Soldier’s permanence. There’d never been any question about that, Bucky meant the world to him and as long as he wanted him around, Steve would stay by his side. He would stay and he would hope, because without hope, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his head above the water.

Besides, maybe one day his phone would ring.

“Captain, you here?” Sam’s voice echoed through the sparsely filled rooms. The few things he’d called his own were probably in a S.H.I.E.L.D vault somewhere, or whatever organisation had taken up its mantle, and he’d had no desire to try to make himself at home here anyway.

“Yeah, just give me a minute,” Steve called back, pulling on clean jeans over dark red underwear. The blue shirt was one of his favourites, the soft material one that Natasha had introduced him to, one of the delights of the modern world, she’d said during an impromptu shopping trip. “What can I do for you?”

Steve found Sam sat on one of the sitting room chairs, looking relaxed for the most part but his smile wasn’t quite as natural as it used to be.

“Not much, we saw T’Challa was back so I thought I’d swing by, ask if you fancied watching the baseball game this afternoon.”

“Sounds good, Bucky watching it too?”

“He said so, yeah.”

It could be a trap to make him talk but then Steve could just leave if he wanted and he hadn’t seen a game in ages.

“Alright then, I’ll see you around two.” Steve didn’t mean to sound dismissive, but if he was going to smile and laugh and pretend everything was okay this afternoon, he needed sometime to himself right now.

Sam hesitated before standing up and heading towards the door.

“Bucky and I will be catching up on Big Bang Theory if you want to join us before then.”

Steve let him go without answering, they both knew he wouldn’t be joining them.

He should probably check in with Clint, he hadn’t heard from the archer in a few days but their discussions lately were becoming derivative and Steve wouldn’t react well to Clint’s frustration in his current state of mind. He’d ask Sam to get in touch later, since apparently his team were already turning to him instead of him. He chased the bitter thought away, chastising himself thoroughly before he pulled his artbook out of his desk drawer and tuned to a blank page, purposefully avoiding the pages that were already covered in pencil and paint.

Drawing was a good way to vent his emotions but that didn’t mean he wanted to see his efforts laid out bare afterwards.

He was choosing his pencil when his phone rang. Not his Tony phone, was the first thought that went through his head. God, he exhausted himself. He wasn’t sure how much longer could he go on like this.

He picked up the phone but didn’t speak, a habit from when Ross had the law on his side in his hunt for Steve and his friends that Steve hadn’t felt comfortable enough to break yet.

“Rhodes is back,” the woman stated with no preamble.

“Did you find out why he was in DC?”

“No, but whatever the reason, the military’s got some new armour out of it.”

“Couldn’t that have been the reason?”

“There weren’t even any _plans_ for new body armour, let alone any kind of prototype to offer the military.”

“Payment then, could this be how Tony locked Ross out and altered the Accords?” Steve didn’t doubt his source’s intel for a moment.

“I don’t think so, he wouldn’t have wanted to take the chance that the military might reject his offer, which would have left Ross in a better position to stop him, he’d at least have had a prototype already made to show them.”

“Could he have made one in secret? It would explain why Rhodey was there instead of Tony himself if it was just a delivery wouldn’t it?”

“Tony does that kind of thing himself, he likes to see them drool over the features in person.”

Steve chuckled and it came out raw, like sandpaper scraping against itself, his words coming out gruff because of it. “Sounds like him.”

“Rhodes was in there too long for a delivery anyway. He was there to negotiate something, I’d put money on it, something that one or both of them thought Tony would mess up if he went himself probably.”

Steve had never seen Tony shy away from something as simple to him as a business deal, it was the one area of his life that Tony had never lacked confidence in. Steve remembered the high Tony would ride after returning from a successful meeting, the maniacal grin he’d hold for minutes at a time as he dragged Steve and Bruce into the common room to marathon some movie franchise, insisting a celebration of his awesomeness was necessary. It was never the film that had Steve smiling along too though.

“You think you could get Rhodes to tell you?” Steve asked, ignoring the guilt twisting up his stomach, really it should have been given a residency permit by now. He just wanted to make sure Tony was staying safe, it wouldn’t be the first time the genius disregarded his safety to achieve a goal that only he knew about. Huh. “Do you think Rhodes knows why he was there?”

“He wouldn’t have gone if he thought it would harm Tony, or anyone else for that matter. And no, the two are thick as thieves, closer than ever. He wouldn’t tell me.” She sounded sad and Steve could sympathise with being kept on the outside, he’d had lots of experience with it throughout his life.

“Alright, let me know if you hear anything else.”

“I want to keep him safe too Steve, I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think it was necessary.”

When she’d found out that someone had been asking after Maria Hill’s whereabouts, she’d carried out her own investigation and found Steve at the end of it. Frankly, Steve had thought he was a gonner, the stories had been passed around the Avengers from the very beginning after all, but when she’d asked him why, he’d told her. He’d told her why he’d fought against Tony in the war, he’d told her about the best friend that had essentially saved his life as a child, he’d told her why he’d kept the truth from Tony and he’d told her why he was searching for Maria Hill. He’d hoped she was still within SI and could keep him updated on Tony’s well being, which to Steve included his movements since the man was as self-destructive as they came.

Instead of going to Tony, she’d told him that Maria had disappeared with Fury and that no-one seemed to know where they’d gone. Then she’d made him an offer. She would be Steve’s eyes and ears, if Steve promised to come if she called, if she thought Tony needed him but wouldn’t ask.

The decision had been easy for Steve to make and he hadn’t regretted it in the six months they’d been in contact since.

“I need to go, look after yourself, Steve.”

Really, he couldn’t have asked for a better mole in Tony’s orbit. Someone who knew how far Tony could be bent and stretched before he broke, someone who Steve could trust to have Tony’s best interest at heart and nothing else.

“You too. Bye, Pepper.”

 

* * *

 

“ _Boss!_ ” FRIDAY’s raised voice cut across the workshop as the music cut out mid guitar riff. Tony tried to stay sat in his seat after almost hitting the ceiling in his surprise.

“Jesus FRIDAY! You scared the shit out of me, what the Hell has gotten into you?!”

 _“You have a phone call and have not been responding to my prompts_.” FRIDAY’s tone made it clear there had been several of them.

“Alright,” Tony tried to get his breathing under control. How was it even his own AI ignored the fact he had a dodgy heart? “Alright. Who is it Fry?”

“ _Master Parker, Boss_.”

“Well isn’t this a surprise? Okay I’m ready, put him through.”

“Mr Stark?” How was it such a young voice was attached to such a power house?

“Hey kid, I haven’t missed a study date have I?” FRIDAY was beyond efficient in nagging at him until he headed towards wherever it was he needed to be, Tony was pretty sure FRIDAY and Pepper had formed one of those female bonds that men don’t understand and should definitely fear, but it was possible he’d been too focused on the military’s new body armour and hadn’t taken in FRIDAY’s prompts.

“No, nothing like that Mr. Stark. Our meeting is later on this week if you’re still on for that? I mean if you’re not too busy, what am I saying? Of course you’re always busy so we can just-”

“Hold it right there motormouth,” Tony interrupted fondly, the nickname falling easily off his tongue. Even with Peter’s upcoming internship at SI providing them with a legitimate reason to be in contact, Tony was hesitant to use the kid’s real name when he didn’t have to. All it would take was one slip around one wrong person who was clever enough to put the pieces together and Peter’s night time adventures would be revealed. Especially when said young man refused to stop webbing up muggers in the streets of Queens, no matter how many times Tony had warned him that Ross would catch wind eventually. Tony would protect him of course, but still, sometimes it was best not to be the one who throws the first stone. “I told you we’d have lunch and we will, we’ve got a lot to discuss after all.”

“You can say that again,” Peter muttered but the boy’s new Stark Phone transmitted the comment crystal clear. Tony frowned.

“So why are you calling?” Tony asked the obvious question.

“I have a… friend? No, maybe not. Acquaintance seems a bit harsh though and enemy definitely is so maybe-”

“Enemy? C’mon kid, spit it out already!” Tony liked Peter but he had yet to learn the art of getting to the point. Besides, Tony was getting a bad feeling, one that was proved right in the next moment.

“There’s an Avenger in my living room.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo thoughts? XD
> 
> One thing I will say is that character growth is a thing and a person’s way of thinking can change. Or be made to. :P I love Steve, but he’s going to have his own stuff to work through just like everyone else. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter makes some questionable choices, Bucky is a reluctant participant in a therapy session and Tony finally comes face to face with Clint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! In apology, it’s the longest chapter yet, rolling in at around 7K. I really wanted to get Tony and Clint in the same room this chapter, so I hope you enjoy that section. Much more to come too. ;)
> 
> Thank you for all the comments on the last chapter, I’m hoping to reply to them this week but I read all of them as they come in and they really do mean a lot to me. I won’t ever abandon this fic, even if updates get slow occasionally. I’ve already got a lot of the later scenes and even a couple of chapters written, it’s just a case of tamping down my excitement over those to write out the chapters we’re on now! Haha Okay, enough yapping. Enjoy! :D

**_Two days ago_ **

“It’s just for a week, or it should be anyway. No, I’ll make sure it is.”

“You know Catherine’s busy looking after the farm these days, Peter. I doubt she wants to host a guest for a few days, let alone a week! At least tell me what’s going on!”

Peter really wished he could, but if he told his Aunt the truth, that someone with a whole bucket load of skill had been following him around every night for the past week, there wasn’t a chance in Hell she’d go stay with her sister-in-law and leave Peter to deal with it alone.

He took a deep breath and put his brain to use. He needed to know that she was safe and he was willing to do whatever it took to make sure that happened.

He put on his best ‘I’m so embarrassed and would like to be anywhere but here right now’ face, which, considering what he was about to say, was pretty much just his face right now.

“I know- I know you’re doing your best to raise me right Aunt May, and I appreciate you so much for it, but at the end of the day, we’ve been living in each other’s pockets for a while now and since I’m almost an adult… I- I could really just do with a bit of space to myself…” The speech got faster as it went on until Peter faded out, hoping he wouldn’t have to say anything else and cursing his pale complexion.

His Aunt, of course, looked positively delighted at his embarrassment.

“Say no more Peter, I was once a teenager myself you know, surrounded by rowdy young boys-”

“Awwww Aunt May!” Peter protested while trying to praise himself for achieving his goal. He couldn’t help but think that maybe some things did come at too high a price after all, though.

“-Just like your Uncle!” His Aunt continued, completely ignoring Peter’s discomfort.

“You had to go there didn’t you,” Peter muttered. His blush hadn’t died down one iota.

“Alright Pete, you’ve got five days and no more.”

It took a second for him to hear his Aunt’s words through the haze of humiliation, ugh, but once they had registered, his glee could barely be contained.

“Wooo! Thanks Aunt May, you’re the best, have I told you that? Doesn’t matter, I probably don’t tell you enough anyway. You’re awesome!” Peter shouted as he leaped out of his seat to sweep his Aunt up into a tight hug.

“I’m beginning to think this is all a ruse so that you can throw a party or something, except you only have about three friends and I’ve known them all for years. They’re more likely to come over for a book club than a rave.”

Peter thought he hid his flinch at the too-close-too-home joke pretty well, he really didn’t like lying to her. Five days though… He should probably slow down a bit so that whoever was following him could actually catch up.

His stalker didn’t seem to be the assassin type (Peter may or may not have made sure to give him or her the chance, for data gathering purposes only, since there was no way an assassin could have actually hit him), instead, all they had done so far was to attempt to keep up with him. It was therefore more likely they were after information than to hurt Peter, at the moment anyway.

Peter’s plan was simple. He would let the stalker follow him back to his apartment, watch to see what they did next, and then catch them by surprise and get some answers, finally. With his Aunt now taken care of, his apartment would be the safest place for their confrontation anyway; if he was wrong and his stalker did turn out to be dangerous, at least there would be no civilians around to worry about. Plus, the space may be small but Peter was fast and it was a lot easier to trap someone in a small space, especially when you had the sort of capture tools Peter had on hand. Literally.

“I guess I’ll go pack a bag then, ring your Aunt Catherine,” his Aunt May gave him a firm pat on the cheek before heading into her bedroom.

He’d wait one more night to see if his stalker could follow him home himself, they’d come pretty close after all and he was curious now, to see if they could. After that, he’d lead them home himself.

**_Now_ **

_“There’s an Avenger in my living room.”_

Tony couldn’t have been more shocked if Peter had told him there were little green aliens eating bowls full of lucky charms at his kitchen table. Then again, that probably wouldn’t shock him as much as it should anymore.

“What?!” What the Hell were any of the Avengers doing over there? How did they even find out about Peter? “Which one?”

“The arrow guy I think.”

“Arrow guy, that’s so fucking rude.” A decidedly not muttered voice came over the speaker, followed by a shouted, “Where’d you find this wannabe superhero, Stark? He’s got absolutely no respect!”

“Don’t think you should be calling anyone right now dude.”

“Wonder boy, why don’t you pass Barton there the phone and I’ll get him out of your hair,” Tony was somewhere between exasperated and furious.

“That’s going to be a little difficult Mr. Stark, with him being all webbed up and all.”

Tony barked out a laugh and heard curses being thrown at Peter on the other end of the line.

“Nice one kid, he come in guns blazing?”

“Nah, but when he broke into our apartment and started trying to ferret information out of me about you, after spending the last week stalking me I might add, I figured he couldn’t have been here for noble reasons. Plus, since he was on the other side of the War and all… I didn’t want to take any chances. Avenger or not.”

Someone had been following him for a week and he hadn’t thought to give Tony a call? Tony pushed the thought away, that conversation would have to wait until after they’d dealt with Peter’s uninvited guest. “Give me an hour and I’ll be there. In the meantime, you got any problems with where he is?”

“I sent Aunt May away for a few days so nope, no problem.”

“Sent her, huh?” Tony had a hard time imagining Peter’s aggressively protective Aunt being sent anywhere, let alone when her charge was in danger.

He was definitely going to have a serious talk with the kid about appropriate safety behaviour. It would include things like not lying to the woman that feeds him and not keeping a possible homicidal creeper a secret from his superhero friend, one with the world’s best scanning technology at his fingertips to boot.

Right now though, especially with Clint listening in, he wasn’t going to undermine Peter’s actions. Besides, Tony had to admit that the thought of seeing Clint immobilised by webbing was hilarious.

“Let him hang there until I arrive then. Might teach the idiot not to mess with the next generation of heroes.”

In fact, Tony might leave Clint exactly where he was the whole time Tony chewed him out. Whatever was going on with Clint, Tony was pretty sure that he wouldn’t have hurt Peter, not after finding out how young he was anyway, but anybody knowing Peter’s identity was a danger to him and Tony felt responsible for bringing the kid into Clint’s line of sight. It was up to him to make sure his identity stayed secret.

One of many things he and Clint would be having words about.

“You got it Mr. Stark,” Peter replied before ending the call.

Tony wasn’t stupid, he’d known Clint had returned to the city and had been asking around about him but this was an unexpected turn of events. He’d thought Clint would just come and ask him straight out how he got the Avengers exonerated but Clint must mistrust him even more than he’d thought. He wasn’t really surprised, especially not when Tony didn’t trust his old teammate either right now, but it still hurt when he’d been working his ass off to get them all their lives back.

He’d made mistakes, but he was trying to fix them. This fiasco didn’t really scream that the same was true for Clint.

Tony sighed, reserving any further thought or judgement until he’d spoken to the man himself.

“FRIDAY, tell Pepper I’m going to have to reschedule lunch, will you.”

“ _May I remind you that this is the third time you will be cancelling on Miss Potts, Boss._ ”

“She’ll understand, just tell her some problems have arisen with the Stark Phone upgrade designs that I want to get sorted out.” He didn’t know why she was being so persistent about having this non-business lunch since Tony was doing pretty well all things considered and Pepper tended to leave him to his own devices nowadays, provided that FRIDAY didn’t alert her to any kind of spiraling behaviour. She’d accept the excuse though, like she had the last couple of times. Business would trump personal stuff for her on this occasion too; she’d been waiting for the Stark Phone plans for too long as it was, since Tony had been too busy with everything else to work on them.

That had been the whole point in them breaking up, so she wouldn’t have to split her focus between looking after Tony and looking after his company. Alright, that wasn’t the only reason and they weren’t her exact words either but Tony knew that the stress of worrying about him and running SI at the same time was a big part of it. It would have been too much for anybody, something that Tony should never have asked of her in the first place. He and Pepper had always made better friends than romantic partners anyway, on that they both agreed and it was easier now, they were beginning to get their balance again.

He’d make time to actually work on the upgrades later, but at the moment he had just under an hour to figure out what he was going to do about Clint.

He finished off the work on the section of the military’s body armour he’d been working on before he asked FRIDAY to save everything. It was all kept on his private server under the highest security measures he had, not even FRIDAY could access it without a direct command from Tony along with a pass phrase.

“I want you to run the first round of simulations on it while I’m out, throw everything at it. Use the Iron Man testing program as well as the ones we usually use for military gear, just make sure to delete all records of the tests in the logs and move the results over to where everything else is, alright? If we keep everything in one place it’s less likely anyone will find any crumbs if they go looking. Not that I think you leave crumbs, FRIDAY. Close everything when you’re done, we can go through the results when I get back.”

“ _Will do, Boss. May I suggest you get changed before leaving the Tower?_ ”

“I always look great, Fry so I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” Tony glanced down at himself though, took in the grease that had rubbed off on his shirt from who knew where since he’d only been working on schematics today, nothing like manual labour about that. He also realised that Dum-E must have spilled a smoothy on him at some point because that dark stain on his jeans looked a little too green to be oil. “Alright, maybe you have a point,” Tony said into the pointed silence.

“ _I’ve bookmarked the security feed for future reference,_ ” FRIDAY said, as wryly as she could manage.

“Why do all my creations sass me?”

“ _We are exactly that Boss, your creations._ ”

“Yeah, yeah. Well I suppose I could have done a lot worse.” Dum-E nudged his leg, beeping with happiness as U span in circles, or tried to anyway. He patted Dum-E’s arm but rolled his eyes at Butterfingers who had decided to show his own happiness by continuing to do the job he’d been set, unlike his older brothers, the slackers. At least he’d always have his bots, at least he could count on them to stick around, and really, they only ever tried to kill him by accident. Probably.

He left the workshop and headed up to the penthouse to get changed, thankfully not bumping into anyone on the way. He turned his mind back to the errant archer.

He couldn’t bring Clint back to the tower right now. In a couple of days, the military was going to follow through on their end of the deal and everything had to go smoothly with the delivery. He’d managed to get what he wanted right out from under Ross’ nose but any problems, such as a nosy archer, would draw attention neither party needed.

Ross’ power over the superheroes of the world had been slashed drastically but the military was another matter. It had taken careful maneuvering to get an audience with someone high enough up the chain of command to have both the authority to hand over what Tony wanted and the political power to stand up against General Ross, without Ross catching wind before a deal could be made. Once it had been, they’d agreed to remain silent on the matter. Everything was marked need to know and buried. It wasn’t just Ross that Tony didn’t want following the trail after all, something that his contact knew and appreciated as well.

However, Tony could hardly leave Clint running around New York with whatever conspiracy theories the agent had going on in that SHIELD trained head of his. Not without having what was probably going to be a long and exhaustive talk with him and he didn’t really want to do that with Peter around.

A buffer would have been nice, someone to help knock that enormous chip off Clint’s shoulder that he seemed to have developed by the time Tony had seen him in the Raft, like everything had been Tony’s fault. He would have considered taking Rhodey with him not too long ago but that wasn’t something he was willing to put his friend through now. Rhodey was still hurting from the War, his reaction to Wanda’s return had proven that. The Avengers infighting had made his best friend more distrustful of people in general and definitely more protective of Tony. He could take Vision, he supposed, but Clint had never really warmed up to him and the archer was bound to be on the defensive as it was.

Tony needed to get Clint to open up if they were ever going to get this sorted out. He wanted to move past this, past all of it, and he knew Clint was going to be one of the harder nuts to crack when it came to getting him to actually _listen_ to Tony. If he wanted any chance of Clint being a fully fledged Avenger again, Tony needed to approach him openly and honestly. As honest as he could be anyway. His mind jumped threads until it landed on his latest house guest. Wanda.

Clint and Wanda had been close since Sokovia, surely she could get Clint to explain why he thought tracking down a friend of Tony’s for information was a good idea. She could do it without using her powers and hopefully without setting off Clint’s bullheadedness. Clint couldn’t accuse him of manipulating Wanda either since their longstanding distrust of each other was well known, but could Tony trust her to have his back now? The idea was ludicrous but she’d done nothing but be friendly with Tony since she’d move in. They hadn’t talked about the Accords or their history before that but so far, they seemed to want the same thing; reparation, redemption even.

It could work, Wanda could be an olive branch and a mediator all in one, except Tony didn’t want her knowing about Peter. Which left him no choice really, he’d have to bring Clint back to the tower. Somehow.

He glanced at his watch (the one that hid a modified version of an iron man gauntlet, just in case) as he headed towards the elevator, now dressed in clean black jeans and a dark blue shirt, hair restyled and shades firmly in place. He had about twenty minutes left to work out how, exactly, he was going to make that happen.

* * *

Bucky really didn’t want to have to deal with this today.

Steve had locked himself away in his room and no-one seemed to know what had set him off this time, Clint also appeared to be throwing a tantrum since he wasn’t picking up his phone and the Soldier had decided first thing that morning that he preferred tea to coffee. The pronouncement had been followed by an hour of mental struggling and had resulted in yet another sulking housemate, except this one couldn’t avoid Bucky and so he and the Soldier were both stuck dealing with one another’s bad mood.

So, it really wasn’t unreasonable for him not to feel like sitting down and pouring out his feelings this afternoon. Unfortunately, upon hearing all this, Dr. Keane decided that it would be good for Bucky to have some more “normal” problems to discuss with her for a change.

The air quotes actually happened.

Did he mention he really wasn’t in the mood for this shit?

“Let’s start with Steve shall we?”

“Let’s not.”

“Your best friend is shutting you out, it’s only natural you would be upset by that.”

Bucky knew how valuable talking could be, but right now, he was just _not interested_.

Dr. Keane sighed when he remained silent. She uncrossed her legs, put down her notes and leaned forwards, interlacing her fingers in an unconscious movement that spoke of pleading and begging to those who were trained to see it. Not that Dr. Keane tried to hide any of her reactions from Bucky, it was one of the reasons he trusted her.

“Have you thought that what Steve is doing now, trying to take care of his problems by himself, is exactly what you were doing after you left HYDRA, before Steve found you?”

“It’s not the same, I didn’t know who I was and I was a danger to everyone. I was protecting him.”

_We were protecting ourselves._

The Soldier held nothing back, cutting into Bucky with the truth. The approach was so different to Dr. Keane’s encouragement and creation of a safe, calm environment for self-discovery. It worked though, Bucky’s sessions usually went better when the Soldier participated as well. Dr. Keane had used some fancy term but had explained that there was less strain on his mind when the two separate parts of himself were working together towards a common goal.

Besides, the Soldier was right, he hadn’t just been running from the multiple organisations chasing him, he’d been running from a man he recognised but who he’d known wouldn’t recognise him, not anymore. He’d been afraid of what would happen when Captain America realised the friend he was searching so tirelessly for wasn’t here anymore.

Didn’t mean he was going to share that with Dr. Keane today though.

“It seems to me that Steve is doing precisely the same thing. He’s protecting you from having to carry his problems along with your own.”

“If that’s true, then he’s an idiot.” Bucky had been wrong to hide for so long, he wasn’t the same man Steve knew before but he wasn’t completely different either. He had a lot of the right memories now and he had most of the feelings that went with them. Even if the new him might have lived out those moments differently, his bond with Steve felt just as strong now, if altered a little by the events of their lives since they were forced to part ways. Bucky kept hold of that, it gave him hope that everything else would fall into place with time.

_What you feel for him now, you didn’t remember then. I wasn’t… whole then. Neither of us were._

Bucky wished he could hide the thought that they weren’t whole now but he couldn’t hide anything from the Soldier, not really and definitely not when the Soldier was listening. He felt the Soldier’s sadness before it was clamped down on, hard. Sadness had no use. The reaction was instinctual and caused them both to flinch internally but Bucky still couldn’t help wishing that he could do the same.

Bucky wished for a lot of things.

However, he knew what it cost the Soldier to push back his emotions, when he was only just discovering how to feel. The Soldier could be cold and calculating, it was part of who he was, his identity, but he also had thoughts and feelings and opinions and every time the remnants of HYDRA’s attempt at programming forced the Soldier to push them back, to close himself off from those glimmers of humanity, the Soldier doubted his place in the world a little more, his right to survive.

When Dr. Keane had asked Bucky about when he’d first been aware of the Soldier’s existence, he couldn’t give her an answer. Technically, the Soldier had been in control of their body longer than Bucky had. Bucky had been in a kind of stasis until HYDRA had ordered the Soldier to kill Captain America and seeing Steve had woken him up. Eventually, on a Helicarrier above Washington, he had regained control but his memories had been scattered and when he’d tried to reach for them they’d slipped through his fingers like the water he’d dragged Steve out of.

In that moment, when he’d known how to kill a man in a hundred different ways but felt so much more than the Soldier had in his entire existence, the two of them had almost been one person.

He ran.

He ran and ran and then he’d remembered, or started to.

Maybe it was when he’d seen his name, right there next Steve’s, looking harmless on a plaque in the Smithsonian but meaning _everything_. Maybe that was when the Soldier’s separate identity solidified.

_I exist, but I was not born._

No, but you are alive, Bucky responded adamantly. The Soldier may be a difficult part of his life in so many ways but he wasn’t just Bucky’s responsibility, the Soldier was the only reason there had been anything left of Bucky for Steve to get through to at all.

Bucky felt the Soldier’s quiet happiness at his words, a flicker of warmth in a tundra of ice and snow.

It reminded Bucky of how far they had come and of how helpful Dr. Keane could be when he was open to it. Nothing had ever been solved with silence.

“If Steve’s trying to protect me, how do I get him to stop? I’m supposed to be his friend, not a project.”

“Well, what would you have done before?” Dr. Keane asked, brushing a hand through her graying hair. She was the type of woman who would age with grace, the wisdom of her years making her eyes soft rather than jaded. Bucky imagined that was a difficult trait to keep in her profession; it took a strong woman to face down the kind of men Bucky had read about in her file.

There was no question as to which “before” Dr. Keane meant.

“I…” Bucky sifted through his memories, pushing aside the ones from the War to when he was a kid.

He had a few, though not many from that far back.

There was one where Steve’s ma had cooked them supper. They’d been late getting back from wherever they’d been finding trouble that day and instead of sending them up to bed with nothing, like his own ma would have done, Sarah Rogers had sat them down and made them eat every last bite, even though they’d already stuffed their faces with sweets bought with all of Bucky’s pocket money for the month. The memory warmed him as it came into focus more easily than he’d once thought a memory ever could. He could almost smell Mrs Rogers’ cooking, feel the shadow of Steve curled into his side as they’d huddled up for warmth in his ice cold room afterwards, stomachs full to bursting as they’d whispered about the adventures they would have tomorrow.

Bucky also remembered them butting heads. They must have been about sixteen and Bucky had just punched some guy who’d decided to add himself to the roster of stereotypical jocks by picking on the little guy. Stevie had been so mad. Bucky hadn’t understood why but all his banter and charm seemed to do was make his friend angrier, until finally, Stevie had shouted that he didn’t need Bucky to fight his battles for him and that if that was the only reason he was sticking around then he didn’t need him at all.

Bucky had watched as Steve stormed off. After pulling his chin up off the floor, he’d chased after him but Steve’s ma had said he’d asked her not to let Bucky in. She’d looked sad and assured Bucky that if he tried again tomorrow, Steve would probably be ready to talk about whatever had upset him. Except the next day he’d refused to even come the door.

“I’d leave him to it,” Bucky said, his mind coming back to the present, “give him some space. Steve knows I’m here for him, he’s always known that, no matter how dumb he’s being. He’s stubborn as a mule though and the more you push, the harder he’s gonna dig his feet in.” Bucky nodded, feeling good about what he was saying. “It’s best if I wait ‘till he’s sorted through everything he needs to in his head, let him come to me when he’s ready.”

Dr. Keane nodded along with him, scribbling away on the notepad she must have retrieved sometime during Bucky’s trip down memory lane.

“Have you thought about leaving?” She asked, the same way she asked any of her questions. Clearly, calmly, like there was no wrong answer. Like the answer he did give wouldn’t matter at all.  
  
He knew better though and took a moment to consider his reply. The truth was that he _hadn’t_ thought about it. For the first time, it really hit home what Tony Stark had done for him. Bucky could _leave_. Sure, there were bound to be people out there who still wanted him dead or on a leash, with their hand on the reins, but if he wanted to, Bucky didn’t have to stay here.

_Here is safe. Here is where Steve is._

The Soldier didn’t exactly like Steve but he didn’t dislike him either. Bucky’s ties to the Captain confused him, but he understood that Steve was what bound Bucky to the world more than anything else. A trickle of panic bled down to Bucky but whether the Soldier was concerned that Bucky wouldn’t cope without Steve or was simply afraid to leave the Palace, the first real safe haven he’d ever known, Bucky wasn’t sure. Either way, it was clear the Soldier didn't want to leave.

 _Here is safe_ , the Soldier repeated.

Safe isn’t always for the best though, safe isn’t how Bucky had ever wanted to live his life, not as the previous version of himself and not now either.

Perhaps it was time to do something about that, maybe it was something they all needed. As long as Bucky wasn’t dangerous himself, why should he have to live safely?

_We are dangerous. We will always be dangerous._

No, we _can_ be dangerous. There’s a difference, we have a choice.

It was something Bucky had been trying to make the Soldier understand for a long time, the idea of choice. It was why Bucky could never be too angry when the Soldier chose something different from Bucky, as difficult as coming to a compromise could be.

“It could give you and Steve the distance you need,” Dr. Keane said when Bucky remained silent.

That might have been what he’d have done before but things weren’t as simple now. After the last few months, the last _year_ of splits and departures, Steve was bound to react badly to Bucky leaving, even if more space was exactly what they needed. Steve was so isolated at the moment and Bucky had no doubt that he’d only hold on tighter to what he had left. Steve had things he needed to sort out alone, yes, but Bucky couldn’t let him think he’d run off again.

Maybe they could talk about it though. Maybe.

“These sessions…” Bucky started but didn’t know how to explain that he needed them, that even though he was trusting himself a little more every day, trusting the Soldier, these sessions held him together. No, it was more than that. They let him feel safe while he fell apart.

“I wouldn’t sign you off Bucky, we’d meet up elsewhere or we could video call instead, it would depend on where you went.”

 _Where_ **_would_ ** _we go?_

Anywhere we want.

“Thank you,” he said, the words genuine.

Dr. Keane smiled. “I think that’s enough for today, unless you need me to negotiate a cease-fire in the tea versus coffee debate?” She asked, her eyes sparkling.

Bucky laughed, the sound still scratchy to his ears but it felt good.

“Nah, I’m sure we can find a compromise,” Bucky said with a grin, ignoring the Soldier’s background grumbling.

It was only then that Bucky realised the Soldier had broken his moody silence in order to help Bucky.

He left the room feeling lighter. He wasn’t sure if he would or could actually leave Steve right now, but just thinking about it let him know that he could do it, that he felt ready. Leaving wouldn’t mean running, it wouldn’t mean losing his progress or cutting ties with the people who supported him. It just meant growth.

Knowing that the decision belonged to the Soldier and him, that was what really had him smiling as he walked through the halls towards the kitchen, hoping there was still some cherry pie left in the fridge. That was what he would hold on to going forward.

It was something he hadn’t had in a very long time.

* * *

Tony knocked three times before letting himself into Peter’s apartment.

“About damn time! Get me the Hell out of here Stark or I swear I’m gonna-”

“Yeah, yeah, keep on yapping. I’ll just leave you up there longer,” he heard Peter say from around the corner. Tony followed the voice.

The apartment was just the same as it had been the last time Tony visited, clean and as tidy as a living space could be when it was actually too small to house the people that lived in it. Then again, Tony’s standards on these things were decidedly skewed.

The only sign that there had been any disturbance to Peter’s day to day life was the archer stuck to one wall by webbing that covered him from his neck to his feet. The arms splayed out to either side of the cocoon were held in their own webs, like Clint had been reaching for an arrow from his quiver to use along with the bow that was now propped up against a chair near to where Peter stood eyeing his prisoner with more caution than his previous tone suggested. Maybe there was hope for the kid yet.

“I’m serious, this gooey junk is pressing on my junk, man. Let me down!”

“Nice to see you haven’t changed much Clint,” Tony said, at a loss for words as he watched the archer wriggle fruitlessly against his bindings. “Hey Peter, how are things?”

“Oh you know, college is good, got a good photography gig on the horizon, foiling the dubious plans of an Ex-Avenger.”

“I _am_ an Avenger kid, more than your Boss here anyway,” Clint spat out. In amongst the barbs and jabs, there was something real in Clint’s venom and it made Tony really not want to let him down from there.

In fact, he wished he was still at home, preparing for tomorrow’s delivery while avoiding Pepper’s calls.

“Mr. Stark ain’t my Boss, do I look like I’m on that kind of salary?”

“I did offer to-”

“No, thank you Mr. Stark but we’ve already been through that.”

Tony had to try, he was starting to feel claustrophobic in here and he’d barely been in the apartment two minutes. He couldn't imagine having to live here, as warm and homely as May had made it.

“What are you doing here Barton?” Tony asked, trying to cut to the point.

“Looking for the truth.”

Huh, he wasn’t really expecting an answer to that, let alone an honest one.

“If you wanted to know something, you should have come to me yourself.”

“And have you lie to me? Or worse, capture me and hand me over to Ross? Where exactly is Wanda right now?” Clint renewed his struggle and Peter fired some webbing right next to his face. “You know that’s disgusting right?”

“You learn to live with it. Besides, it comes in handy when some stalker breaks into your apartment.”

“Is that how you found out who Peter was by the way? By following him?” He needed to know of there was a hole in his security he needed to take care of.

“He wishes he was that good,” Peter muttered, only to have two frowning gazes turn on him.

“You let him follow you here?!” Tony shouted, all thoughts of saving this for a private moment going out the window. “What were you thinking Peter? Did you even know who he was?”

Peter shook his head, eyes on the ground.

“Jesus kid, he could have been anyone! You’re lucky it was Clint and not someone who would really do you some harm.”

“They could try.”

“Didn’t I tell you to lie low? I distinctly remember using that phrase. Was a not talking loud enough? Was my voice muffled or something?”

“No, Mr. Stark, I just thought-”

“You thought you would lead a possibly violent stalker to your home and turn the tables on him. The chances were it was someone you wouldn’t want to know your secret Peter and then what would you have done? You’d have put both yourself and your Aunt in danger!”

“I’m sorry.”

Tony let out a huff, the fear fading and his anger, if it was ever that, going with it.

“I promised I wouldn’t drag you into that world any more than I had to. I know you have your own thing going here in Queens, I understand the need to help people more than most, but _do not_ do something so stupid again Pete because I know you aren’t that dumb.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

“Next time I’ll withhold suit upgrades.”

Tony turned away from Peter’s amusingly distraught face but barely managed to hold in his laughter at the incredulous look on Hawkeye’s.

“I have no idea what I just witnessed. Did you adopt a superkid while I’ve been away, Stark?”

Tony crossed his arms and stared down the archer.

“No, but someone has to look out for the kid.”

“Is that what you call dragging him into a Civil War he had nothing to do with?”

“I was trying to protect my friends, Clint. Peter’s abilities are non-lethal and he was under strict orders not to put himself in harm’s way.”

“It was awesome! I got to fight beside Iron Man and War Machine, not to mention Vision, that guy is so cool! So’s the guy with wings and I’d love to fight with the dude with the metal arm again, I mean he’s nowhere near as strong as me but it was fun!”

“Is he for real?” Clint asked Tony, eyes filled with disbelief.

“You have no idea.”

“No wonder you like him,” Clint muttered.

“You put him in danger by coming here,” Tony said, getting the conversation back on track.

“I didn’t know he was just a teenager, Stark. I just needed answers and thought your new arachnid friend was the weakest link.” He side eyed Peter who was slowly edging his way towards Clint’s bow. “Looks like I was wrong about that, kid packs one hell of a punch. You touch that though and I’m gonna string you up with it when I get down from here. Anyone ever tell you not to touch what isn’t yours?”

“She’s a beauty. One of Mr. Stark’s right?”

Tony turned to examine the piece of equipment, recognising it as one of his own designs after just a few seconds.

“Thought you’d have had your new feline friend get his team to make you a new one. I know they’ve got one Hell of a science program over there.”

Clint’s face shut down, the agent on instant alert.

“You knew where we went? How?”

“I’m a genius remember? Wasn’t that hard to figure out,” Tony answered, it was all he was willing to share on the matter.

“You’re not what I expected,” Clint said quietly. “Wanda isn’t with Ross is she?”

“No, she’s safe and approaching happy as far as I’ve heard, making a home for herself in the tower.”

Tony wasn’t sure if Clint really was coming to his senses or not, but he certainly couldn’t leave him stuck to the wall of Peter’s living room forever. He couldn’t have the observant agent sticking his nose into tomorrow’s plans either though.

“We need to talk,” Clint said eventually, as serious as he’d ever been.

“Well I can’t be too worried, we broke up already,” Tony threw out. “Okay, alright. Not here then, and not today.” Tony raised a hand to stop Clint from interrupting, much to the archer’s obvious annoyance. “I was actually right in the middle of something and am unavailable for a couple of days so you’ve got a choice to make.”

He waited for Clint to nod before he went on, the sight of Clint’s bobbing head when the rest of him was being held motionless by webbing forced Tony to actively hold his composure.

“First, you’re free to leave right now if you want. You very clearly were under some major misconceptions when you came after me through Peter and I’m trying a new thing out so you get another chance. If you wish, you can go back where you came from and we’ll pretend this never happened. That includes never mentioning who Peter is, or I swear I will rain holy Hell down on you, Barton.”

Clint watched him, warily, unbelieving probably.

“And the second option?”

“We go to the tower and have our talk. You tell me what misconceptions you were under exactly and I’ll blow them out of the water with logic and charm.”

Clint huffed out a laugh.

“There is one stipulation, you have to agree to remain on your floor for the next three days. I have a business deal taking place and I don’t want the other parties knowing you’re back in New York.” It wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the whole truth.

He really needed to be careful or sometime soon all these half-lies were going to get him in a whole lot of trouble.

However, this one was necessary. Clint couldn’t be trusted with the whole truth, no one could.

“Because it would mess up your deal?” Clint sneered.

“No,” Tony answered sharply, “because it would put you in danger. I may have gotten the UN to forgive your crimes Hawkeye but not everyone is so forgiving and there are still plenty of powerful people that would like to bag themselves an Avenger, for all sorts of reasons.”

“If these guys are so bad, why are you making deals with them?”

“A sign of the times Barton, you’d be amazed at the bedfellows I’ve been keeping in the last few months. Not literally though, thank God.” Tony scrunched up his face at the thought. “Actually, I probably shouldn’t be surprised you thought I was up to something nefarious,” Tony mused.

Truth was, he hadn’t been surprised. Not because of who Clint might have seen him with though, but because to Cap’s team, it was Tony that was the traitor.

“It’s not like I don’t know how screwed up this whole thing is. We were all pawns in someone else’s game and not just Zemo’s…” Clint faded off and stared hard at Tony. Tony himself didn’t try to hide, instead he passed the seconds wondering where else Clint was laying the blame this time because for once, Tony didn’t think it was with him. “Two days,” Clint said and Tony was thankful that he’d had the foresight to ask for more time than he would need. “I want to see Wanda too.”

“Fine. Communications in and out of the tower will be cut for at least those two days though, starting at midnight tonight, so if you need to check in with anyone I suggest you do it this evening.”

Tony could see the gears working in Clint’s mind, the probability of getting caught in a trap, the reasons Tony could have for luring him to the tower instead of just knocking him out here and placing a call to Ross. Tony saw him weigh all that against the possibility of getting answers.

“That’s… acceptable,” Clint said, hesitating like the word was a foreign concept. It probably had been recently. “Can you tell your mini-me to let me down now? Things are starting to go numb.”

Tony couldn’t help but chuckle and waved Peter forward to do just that.

After the archer was free, Peter granted his request to use one of the bedrooms to make a phone call, leaving Tony and Peter alone.

“You’re really mad aren’t you?”

For a second, Tony flashed back to a similar situation in his own adolescence. He’d never had to ask though, Howard had always been mad.

“No, Peter. I’m just worried about you. I know your Aunt would be too, if you’d told her what was going on.” The honesty seemed to throw Peter off a bit and his response, when it came, was quiet and subdued.

“I- I didn’t think about things like that. I’m sorry.” Peter’s eyes were haunted with the knowledge of how it felt to be the one left behind.

“It’s alright, just don’t do this again, okay? You have friends Peter, remember that. You don’t have to fight alone.”

Peter nodded, fidgeting in the way only growing kids could, restless on his own skin. Tony figured Peter would be out swinging through the city five minutes after Tony and Clint left.

“I think we best reschedule our workshop session this weekend after all, this business deal is going to keep me pretty busy. We’ll sort something out for next week okay?”

“Yeah, yeah that’s fine Mr. Stark.”

“And I think it’s about time we drop the Mr. Stark thing too. Call me Tony, and don’t forget that you can use that number under my name on your phone anytime, for any reason.”

“Okay, Tony.” Peter cringed. “That’s so weird.”

“You’ll get used to it.” Tony grinned like the Cheshire Cat, he really did like Peter. The kid just needed a bit of guidance and whether or not Tony was the right person to provide it, he was going to do his damned best anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New job = less time but I know where the next chapter is going and I’m keen to get back into a regular writing pattern for this fic. Let me know what you thought of this chapter, I promise we’ll get a look at Clint’s view on things in the next one! :D

**Author's Note:**

> I love kudos and comments, they’re what keep me writing so feel free to let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, my usual beta hasn’t seen civil war yet so if you spot any glaring errors, please let me know. :)
> 
> You can also find me on [Tumblr](http://missromancejunkie.tumblr.com), where I'll occasionally post updates on how long until the next chapter will be posted and where you can ask me to hurry the Hell up! :P


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